Black Coffee
by GhostieGooDragon
Summary: Like a good cup of coffee, this fanfic is something to be enjoyed while relaxing, however, also like coffee it may give you heart palpitations from the anticipation. Slow Burn. RusAme. Either way, some chapters will be like a sweet melody of cream and sugars and others will leave a bitter taste stuck to your tongue.
1. Chapter 1

(This is a very slow burn fanfiction. I haven't decided if this is going to be a RusAme or a GerAme fic. Please let me know which pairing you feel would be better and why as the story progresses. America is 19 years old physically, and going to be dealing with a lot of themes having to do with depression, his own toxic behaviors, and the nations/people that surround him. As the story develops, so will Alfred. Will our little Hero learn how to save himself from himself? I have faith.

I would like to take this time to mention that happiness is not found with a relationship, but this is a fanfiction after all, and I love me some fluff to keep it interesting. Still, it is very. Slow. Burn. Well at least to me. You gotta earn your fluff. Pay your dues.

So please, sit back with your electronic screen illuminating your face and enjoy. That fluff will be worth it the wait.

This is rated M. That rating won't be necessary for some time. Any warnings will come before chapters of a particular nature if they come up.

P.S. I'll be using human names. They will more often than not, however, refer to one another as their assigned country.)

Oh, the beach. The sun is setting gorgeously along the horizon. It was somewhere along the American East Coast, exactly where didn't matter. The wind coming in from the ocean was warm and heavy. The sound of the ocean lapping up the shore consumed his ear drums. Seagulls chimed in their announce at one another's company down the shore line. The sensation of curling up his toes in the hot sand was simply blissful as his hair went in whatever direction it wanted. Finally, for a moment he felt at peace. He feels some sort of vibration, much like a gong, reverberate between his temples and ear lobes. It was rather soothing. He looks to the sun, glowing a brilliant orange within a pink and purple haze. All his stress and troubles began to melt away.

"America…! America!" he snaps out of it. Alfred is in his seat, spacing out into the corner of a golden frame holding a painting within it, not of the sunset, but of a sunflower. He slowly shifts his eyes to Arthur.

"I'm listening England, I'm listening."

"Then what did I just say?" The Brit taps his index finger at his hip impatiently and continues regardless. "You looked like you were in Outer Space. You know very well I'm concerned for your well being."

Alfred manages a smile and chuckles, "Aw c'mon. You know I'll be just fine. I always am. It's just uncertain right now. I have a lot of problems. I would love to help you. I really would. I just can't right now." He rises from his seat and notices everyone in the meeting room was already gone. Wow… He must of really checked out. "I should really get back to my hotel room and try to get some rest."

Arthur sighs and shakes his head. "We're in Russia Alfred, make sure to keep your self warm. You might need something thicker than that bomber jacket of yours. And, be careful. I know he's had his eyes on you."

Alfred shrugs, "It's just a control thing. It'll go away in a few years, and he'll go back to hating me in no time."

"Be careful."

Alfred charms up a boisterous laugh to put the Brit at ease, "Of course Arty. I always am." And with that, the nation leaves the room and tries to find his way out of the building. Today wasn't a genuine day. Today was a fake until you make it kind of day. Today was a this-is-why-everyone-thinks-Americans-are-fake kind of day. Today he was only sporting a smile when someone was looking at him, only laughing to ease the tension, only playing along. He had to, in his own mind.

He finds his way out of the building and begins walking back to the hotel. It wasn't far. Although. That coffee shop looks really, really tempting. Something hot between his fingers while the cold air filled his lungs. He turns into the shop and walks up. He glances down the menu and orders something in accented, slow, yet clean Russian. The order is filled, he pays, and when the transaction is complete he sits down with the warm beverage.

Alfred had a thing for light coffee. Coffee that made the walls of your cheeks swell from the sweetness. He sighs in simple delight after sipping at it for a few moments and finds a peculiar blonde has come to sit with him. "Oh, it's you. Hey Germany. What's up, man?"

Ludwig holds his shoulders close to himself and sighs out a soft, "Nothing." His jacket was thick as the rest of theirs to keep them warm. A dull green, only open enough for the German's black scarf to be worn comfortably. "Same as you I suppose. Somezing warm. You looked lonely."

Alfred supposed that was true and smiles some, "Did I?" he sips his coffee and looks to Germany's. "How do you like yours."

"Excuse me?"

"Your coffee, I mean. You like it black, right?"

"Ja, sure. Too much sweet it… it's too much for me. I think you're about to understand that a little more."

Alfred chuckles softly, for once, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, one day, you'll just drink the coffee for what it is. You might not like it at first, but uh, well you get use to it. You start to acquaint with it. Once you like coffee, the way it just is, then adding all zat sugar, it is not appealing anymore."

"Huh." Alfred muses and looks to his cup. "You actually seem social today Germany. I'm not use to that."

"I try to save my voice for someone that is actually listening to me. That, or scolding Italy when he isn't."

"Right." Alfred shifts a bit uncomfortably and the red tint on his cheeks from the cold grows a bit brighter as he remembers how little he has been listening at meetings. At home. Anywhere. He feels like he's a million miles away.

"Alfred." The American snaps his gaze up so fast the German nearly jumps as their blue eyes meet. Germany continues after getting his attention. "I didn't just come sit with you for the company. I've noticed your distance gazes. If you ever." He clears his throat looking to his mitted gloved on the table. "If you ever just need to talk, I'm here. Don't make any rash decisions."

The American beams at the German. "Thank you." His voice was soft and floaty. "I don't know what to say. No one really wants to listen to me talk about my stupid problems. I don't blame them but-"

"I'd like for you to stop excluding yourself from the rest of the world. Stop trying to be such a hero. You obviously wore yourself out thin, and you have such a hard time accepting help in your time of crises and disasters, then you act like no one wanted to help. You can't even-" Ludwig stops himself before he says something hurtful.

"I know." Alfred presses his lips flat. "I can't even save myself."

Ludwig studies the other's face. His brows knit closely and his lips open only slightly. "Is it… another depression? You look…"

Alfred waves his hand in dismissal and laughs, "Oh no, no it's not that bad! Not right now."

Ludwig huffs and sips his coffee. After an awkward moment and a long pause ensues.

"Ludwig…. I'm afraid of doing what you did. I don't know if I could live with myself if…"

"I didn't know if I could either."

"I'm sorry. It must get really old to hear over and over. I know you've tried really hard to make up for it all."

"If Prussia taught me anything before he left us, it's that time doesn't heal all wounds. You should consider some, what is the word… introspection, before making any more, big decisions."

"They're not all mine to make."

"I know. Still- you've been childish. Even when making better choices you're executing them childishly. Just remember, you can talk to me." With that, Ludwig's eyes shift to the door. "Excuse me." He gets up and leaves the coffee shop, meeting France just outside the door. Francis appears to laugh, and they walk off. It's so weird how much changes over time. Alfred sinks into the seat and sighs. He finishes off his coffee and leaves.

The hotel was nice, as always. He had already checked in, and makes his way to his room. A weight lifts off of his shoulders as he enters, and he slips his jacket off, his thinner jacket beneath, and his tie. He gets a couple buttons down and he runs his fingers through his hair with a gentle exhale before he slips his glasses off. He remembered when he could see just fine without them. He just got so far sighted things were slipping away. Now he needed a new prescription for near sightedness. Eyes are weird. Being hundreds of years old is weird. How could they all do it? How could they all keep going? For so long. It'll just never end. Until it does.

Prussia was a grim reminder that even great nations die. And Prussia was so much like him. Energetic, enthusiastic, happy—at least on the outside. Full of himself… Alfred lingers on that thought. Introspection. Germany was younger than he was, why was he so mature? Was it looking after his elder nation instead of being the one that was taken care of? Was it the mistakes he's made? He certainly learned from them. Now he has a constitution even Alfred is willing to admit is better than his own. "I just want to restart. Everyone does. My entire country. Everyone agrees something is wrong. We just… no one can agree on what. Exactly."

There's a knock at the door.

"Hold your horses, I'll be right there."


	2. Chapter 2

_This Chapter Was previously coded. I apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you to those that informed me!_

* * *

"When Alfred opens the door, it was only slightly surprising that Ivan was standing in the door way, sporting his usual soft, fake smile. "Oh, hey." Alfred slips into his own huge goofy grin. "I was wondering when you were coming around. I guess there's quite a bit to talk about, huh?"

Ivan shakes his head, "Nyet, actually. There is not much this time. Still, let us go somewhere." He looks down at the American. His hair was a bit out of place, and it was odd to see him without his glasses on. Or his usual layers of clothing.

Alfred scrunches up his nose at the proposition. "Ah, dude. I just got settled in. Can't we just do it here?"

No, they couldn't. That answer was already obvious, and Ivan's steady glare over his insincere smile made it crystal clear. Alfred was used to it, after all. Ivan was always weird about people over hearing conversations. At least, in the last century. The door closes and Alfred goes to put his layers back on a little annoyed. Although, he was starting to feel the same way as the Russian in some respects. He slips out of the room with his glasses back on and his hair back in place. "Alright Russia, show me the way."

Ivan nods and leads the other to where he deems appropriate. A lot of nations have various safe spaces to speak throughout their countries. Some decades they were used more often than others.

They go for silent walk. It takes some time to get to where they're going. Alfred appreciates the silence and listens to any local passerby's. He really enjoyed how the r's are rolled in the Russian language. He could never seem to get it right himself. It reminded him of when he sat with Kiku and tried to show him how to pronounce an English "r". Some things are just harder for some people. After a moment Alfred giggles to himself. "Do the thing."

Ivan chuckles appreciating the attempt to lighten the atmosphere. "Only if you try to mimic me."

"I uh." The American blushes. "You know I can't."

"Then no 'thing' for you.~"

They make it to an ally way nearly filled with snow and Arthur's warning slips back into Alfred's mind. Ivan slips past the mounds and garbage dumps as Alfred fallows. They get to the end of it. The way in is the way out, unless Alfred wanted to put those parkour lessons from France to use. All he could see was white and he turns to Ivan with uncertainty written on his face and present in his voice. "This isn't where you usually take me."

"It's fine. That spot isn't around anymore."

"Oh." Alfred glances away and zips up his bomber, sinking his cheeks into the fluff of the jacket. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

Ivan sucked in a breath and seems to take a long moment to figure out exactly how he wanted to say what was on his mind. "America- There is. Well. There has always been a tension between us. I know it is not gone, not completely." Alfred looks to the taller nation and nods a little. He continues, "Well. I know Europe is afraid, and my people, they—"

"Ivan." The Russian looks to Alfred and his fake smile slips away, earning a small authentic one from the American. "Don't worry about it. Things between us don't have to be weird anymore. I know I was an ass. You know you were an ass. Everything sucks. I get it, I don't agree with anything going on in your country and I'm sure you want the sanctions gone, but I can't do that."

"I don't, nyet, listen." Ivan cuts in impatiently. Alfred swallows a bit and looks up despite being sunken into his jacket. "We don't have to agree. Although I need your help."

Alfred starts to laugh. Hard. Ivan glares a bit. "You need my help? What could I possibly-?"

"I meant personally. Not as a nation."

"Wait, what…?"

"I'm sick of talking about politics. It gets very old after centuries of it. I need a break. Somewhere warm… In a few months the meeting is going to be in DC. We will be well into spring, and I know there are states that have summer weather in the spring."

The Beach… "I know just where to go!" Alfred grins starting to get a little excited at the thought. A break sounds absolutely wonderful. "Maybe a whole week. Maybe I should invite other nations too, I'm sure they would like a break. Oh- I know just where to rent out."

"It needs to be a secret from our leaders."

"But… why?"

"Just, please. Oh." Ivan walks toward Alfred until his shoulders hit the wall behind him, and the American suddenly realizes he was taking steps back. "Do not ever use my real name like that again." Alfred grins into his jacket. It was always fun when Russia threatened him like that. It was nice to get his blood pumping, especially when it's so cold out.

"Or what?"

Ivan narrows his eyes and steadily his little smirk comes on, "Little America do not test me."

"I'm not little." is all Alfred could protest before Ivan reaches up and yanks down a chain, the metal above, screeching as it slides and violently jerks as the ladder slaps into the hard ground through the snow. It made Alfred flinch a little. Ivan didn't tease about that, but he does chuckle, "You are still half my size." He climbs up the ladder and Alfred fallows, grateful he has gloves. The cold was reaching him through the fabric and made the flesh of his hands start to sting.

"As they climb the old apartment building that seemed rather abandoned, Alfred childishly tries to look up that huge coat Russia always wears. He was curious, is the man chubby, is he ripped? What's his physical physic? They reach the top of the building and Alfred looks up. "Ha! Are you really getting sentimental on me, you old Commie?"

Ivan takes out his flask and takes a swig of vodka before sitting down on the roof. "Porheps. But porheps, you need a lesson in rolling r's."

Alfred's expression flattens and he takes a seat across from the other. "It's too cold out for that. Can't we just look at the stars when they come out and get back to our warm beds?"

The Russian laughs and he takes another swig before putting the flask away. "Nyet. I am sick of hearing about you ordering things with such a thick accent." Alfred's face flushes and he looks away rather grumpily. They spend an hour together. Ivan tries to explain where to let your voice resonate. How to properly roll an "r". He lets Alfred practice. It was pretty hilarious and cute to have him try time and time again with no rewards. He became so embarrassed, giggling and the like.

"I can't do it!" Alfred says through a giggle holding his face, his cheeks getting redder and redder, somehow managing to stay warm in this weather. "It's too hard."

Ivan raises an eyebrow and says nothing allowing the American to erupt into another fit of giggles and chuckles. By the time the stars came out Alfred had managed to successfully say Russia the way Ivan does a few times. It made the larger man a bit happy to see the other at least try.

They both look the the sky at the same time. It was always so beautiful. The deep ocean of black only complimented by flickering light. The cold crisp air that filled their lungs only seemed to make the cold bottomless pit of space more real. Alfred sucks in a breath and begins hugging himself before the shivers take over his body. Ivan notices and shifts his eyes back to the sky. "I can give you my coat, you know.

Alfred lets the through sit in his head for awhile. He did want to see... "I don't need it."

"You are shivering."

Alfred huffs and accepts the coat when Ivan hands it to him. He pretends to look at the sky, but tries to shift his eyes over to see what the man looked like underneath the coat. His arms were thick, but not dramatically defined. He lets his eyes slip a little lower trying to take a look at his stomach. His chest looked a bit flat but his stomach, from sitting, looked very bulged. It seemed like it would be a nice soft and warm place to rest. Ivan glances over and Alfred immediately shifts his eyes back to the stars.

"Were you looking at me?"

"I always shot for the stars, you know?"

Ivan continues looking to Alfred and decides to let him change the subject. "You always did. You were very ambitious. Despite our Cold War, I always did like that about you. Almost as much as I liked the fact I made it into space first."

Alfred grins to himself and shifts his eyes to the glowing white orb in the sky, "Too bad you didn't like me to the moon and back."

Ivan shakes his head and grins, "Perhaps I do now." Alfred pauses. He lets that sink in and turns to Ivan only to see him getting up to leave. "You should get some rest, Little America. I know you do not much care for the winter."

Alfred watches the Russian leave and looks back to the sky. He ponders a few things about their past. About his own past. He holds the coat tighter around himself and wonders about shooting stars.


	3. Chapter 3

The next meeting was in Italy. Alfred didn't want to go. He just really really reaaaaaally really did not want to go in this meeting. The covers were so warm and comfortable. Feeling the comforter graze his half naked body and being able to move about freely made sleeping alone feel good for once.

Yet he did. He tries his best to listen. He focused so hard on listening that he could hardly actually hear what was being said. What he did pick up was the usual. Nothing interesting. He tries not to space out. He tries to stay alert, but his eyes shift to Ludwig. Images of Prussia rush through Alfred's mind and he looks away. He looks to Ivan. He's a geezer, right? How does he keep a smile on his face? Fake as it might be, Alfred could feel his own fake smiles and laughs slipping away from him. And Yao, god, he was so old he just didn't give a fuck anymore. If you paid enough attention you could hear him sneering from the other side of the massive room.

Alfred's eyes shift to Italy. He was old, but he always seemed happy. Genuinely happy. Unlike well, anyone else. How does he do it? He wanted to ask, but the very idea of it seemed silly. Arthur was old, Francis was even older. They seemed rather grumpy though, and Arthur has been distant lately. Alfred sits there and thinks. Enough to forget to listen.

At the end of the meeting Alfred stretches and finds his way over to Feliciano, Arthur and Francis. "Hey guys, do you mind if I ask you about some personal stuff?" They all stop and look to Alfred, although Feliciano seems happy as always and jumps Alfred for a hug, only to receive some nervous yet joyous laughter in return. "Oh hey man, I know it's been awhile."

"America, why don't I ever get to see you?" Alfred tilts his head a little and forces a smile.

"I've been busy."

"I understand." The Italian squeezes and pulls away. "So whatdoya wanna know!"

"Well, how do you guys manage to not get all sad with how fucked up the world seems to be, like, all the time. It just never stops."

All their expressions drop as they look to the American. They all knew this day would come. They all knew that young, excited charm about life and how it can always change for the better would drift away over time. Arthur is the first to respond. "Oh, Alfred. I know it gets to be a bit much at time. The world is a lot better than it use to be. Trust me. It's only getting better. 40 years ago, the world was much more impoverished."

"It also used to be a lot less polluted."

Francis holds a hand up to silence them both, and he puts a hand on Alfred's shoulder. "I know it hard to keep hope at times. It will always pass Alfred. Just as your depression did. Remember how angry you got at Russia for his nihilistic phase? We all get that sometimes."

Alfred opens his mouth to speak. To say anything. To defend how pointless, it all was. To explain that maybe it wasn't pointless, or that in the end everyone just dies anyway, or that there's no point in dwelling on that fact. Slowly he closes his mouth knowing that's all been said before.

They all do seem to care. Their words just didn't feel right. Perhaps they understood. Part of him felt like they didn't. He smiles, "Thanks guys."

Feliciano chirps in a final, "Alfred, don't worry. Accept yourself for who you are, and never stop trying to improve yourself! I know that seems contradictory, but it really works!" He beams at the American and Alfred freezes, getting lost in his warm brown eyes. No wonder Ludwig likes keeping him around.

The rest of the day seemed like a haze. Alfred thought to himself as he kicked the rocks along the harbor and looked out to the water. He used to know how to keep improving, yet to still be himself. Somewhere along the way, stubbornness set in. There was less reading involved. There was less learning from Francis, from Prussia, from Arthur. He looks to the water, wondering how to get that back.

His laughter, his passion, his smile, they all use to be so real. They used to grab people, hold them in. He reaches his finger tips up to his mouth and finds he wasn't smiling. It was too much work to keep up. It was so tiring.

The wind blows gently as he looks to the water until it settles enough for him to see himself in it, wavy and uneven, but it was Alfred. He crouches down and dips his finger into the water. "Maybe…"

"Vieleicht was?"

Alfred jumps up to see Ludwig and Feliciano standing together looking to him. "Oh. Uh. I didn't see you there."

Feli giggles, "We know! America, did you know it's legal for you to drink in my country?"

Ludwig pinches his temple. "He's trying to ask you to come grab a beer with us."

Alfred hasn't had alcohol in a long while. It almost made him uncomfortable. He looks into the glass with whiskey in it and lets the ice clink against the sides. It's funny, some of the things he had in common with Arthur. Part of him wished it was apple pie moonshine though. He sips the glass and looks to Ludwig. The blond man manages a soft smile. "Relax, we're not going to bite you."

Alfred blinks. He didn't notice how tense he was. He tries to relax and partly smiles with a bit of a chuckle, "Yeah, I'll try, man." He shifts his eyes over to Feli, whom was flirting away and off talking to people and being happy as always. "How do you think he does it?"

Ludwig took a sip of his beer and shrugs a shoulder. "That has always been a mystery to me. He's not faking it, not pressing on. He isn't putting up a front, well, unless you believe what Japan says."

"What Japan says?"

"He told me that Italy has an internal voice, one that is very cynical and rather… violent. Perhaps it shields him from the wound it would cause his pride to understand he is much weaker now. Perhaps it is much like Japan. I wouldn't doubt that he silently plans to murder everyone in the meeting room while he sits by politely. Some people, they are very good at internalizing."

"What woah, I had no idea Italy was like that."

"Neither did I." he takes in another sip of beer.

It was hard to tell if the look in Ludwig's eyes really did show everything there was so see about him. There was something there that was almost palpable. Something that Alfred felt he understood. Alfred sips his whiskey. He sips it again. They sit in a long silence that fills the American's stomach. He swallows, and finally the German turns to him. "You aren't acting like yourself, America." Ludwig notices Alfred shrink in his seat and stifles a small smile. "Or perhaps, you are just starting to?" Alfred sits silently in response to the German's question. He doesn't know exactly what to say. "Just let the alcohol carry you."

Alfred finishes his glass and sits back. "I don't know, dude. It's all just been a lot lately. I've been feeling weird and at the least convenient time. I feel old but also way too young and inexperienced. I know Arthur and everyone cares, but- they grew up at a different time. They didn't have or go through what I did when I grew up. I was too powerful too fast and now I don't know what to do with myself."

Ludwig laughs and he puts his beer down from his lips. He actually, genuinely laughs. He doesn't laugh hard or loud. But a soft charming bouncy deep chuckle escapes him and he looks to Alfred with a sort of faint amused smile. "That sounds too familiar."

"It was different for you." Alfred frowns. "I had a childhood, I got to be a kid. You didn't Lud- Germany. You had to deal with a lot more. I just, got selfish?"

Ludwig shakes his head, "Nein, nein. You were a child and were left alone for a century. I always had my brother. Well. Used to…"

Alfred softens his expression. "I guess we both dealt with a lot, huh?"

"Loneliness isn't an easy burden to bare."

"I never said I was lonely."

"You didn't have to."


	4. Chapter 4

"It's alright to be alone, America. It might give you the time you need to find yourself." Ludwig sips his beer as Feliciano slips into the seat next to him, chiming a story that bounces away from your ears. It sounds nice though. Alfred looks to his glass and swishes the lone ice cubes around letting them scrap against each other.

Feliciano gets bats at Ludwig and after getting a sufficient amount of his attention he leaves to do something more interesting, the seat being unable to contain him. "Do you ever feel alone even when you're surrounded by people?" Alfred continues.

"All the time." Ludwig replies. "Feliciano is difficult to feel alone around, however." The blond glances over his shoulder and watches the Italian from afar. "It would be nice-." Ludwig turns his head back and looks to his drink. "If he would slow down sometimes though."

"You sound old." Alfred giggles and lets the bartender take his glass.

"You will too at some point."

Alfred shrugs letting another glass fill up and swallows looking at it, feeling a bit buzzed. One more shouldn't be so bad. He sips at it and smiles into the glass as Feliciano returns once more.

They enjoy the afternoon together. It was nice. None of them care to recall much of what happens or what was said exactly. It was just stories, jokes, and the like. There was laughter and connection, something the American began to ache and miss from his past. Alfred slips out of the bar feeling warm and waves the two off with a smile on his face. He chuckles to himself. It was nice to feel the corners of his lips stretch so far again. He turns on his heal and walks in the opposite direction of the others. Only a bit drunk. He looks up, and then keeps an eye on where he's going. He assumes the other two went back toward Feli's house since he was heading toward the hotel.

Alfred feels his smile fade away as he realizes the feeling in his chest was jealousy. Sinking green envy. He wasn't much of a jealous person, but part of him wanted to continue to spend time with them. Of course, he knew he didn't know them that well at this point. He fills his lungs and slips into the hotel. There was nothing to be jealous of, after all. They were all just friends. Even if they had something going on, that was none of his business. The sensation was creeping up his spine by the time he unlocks his room. He keeps his hand on the door handle trying to shake it off.

 _It's pathetic to feel this way. They deserve to be happy without me. This is ridiculous._ Of course, jealousy isn't a new emotion to the young nation, but never has it felt so… entirely wrong. As if he had no right to feel such a way.

"Why are you standing in the doorway?"

Alfred turns his head to see Ivan about to enter his own room, looking at him with some sort of pity. It reaches the American and soon he starts to feel angry for it. He holds it down under the lump in his throat and looks up at the Russian. "I still owe you your coat back. How many of these do you own?" he asks noting that he was wearing the same exact thing.

Ivan's faint smile of amusement replaces the concern after seeing the American get frustrated. Something was obviously upsetting him. The great privilege of getting to see Alfred's bad side wasn't his alone, but it certainly was more often than the rest. It was almost flattering. "Are you alright, Comrade?"

"Like you care." Alfred spat and slips into his room. Ivan stands waiting and the American soon pops back out of his room with the other's coat folded into his arms. "Here. Take it back. I brought it back for you."

"For me? I could always take it back when I visit you." Another look of amusement, something much more sly slips across the taller man's face.

Alfred scrunches his nose in response and gives it to him. "Or you could take it now."

"Why? Don't you enjoy curling up with it?" Ivan accepts the coat back and smirks watching Alfred's face turn pink through his sun kissed skin.

"I don't- How did you-? That isn't- Whatever."

Ivan chuckles and holds the coat folded within his own arms. "That is all the confirmation I need." He smells a bit of the alcohol and continues, "I never did take you as much of a drinker though."

Alfred rolls his eyes in response. "I'm not shit faced, it's fine. Italy and Germany took me out for a couple rounds, that's all."

"It is a shame you could not do so in your own country."

"I don't care. Is there anything else?" Alfred asks impatiently.

Ivan shakes his head. "Nyet." He looks as if he wants to say more, and stands there for another moment with his lips parted and inhales. With obvious decision to keep that thought to himself the Russian leaves behind a forced smile before going into his own room for the night.

Alfred feels a jerk in his gut as if he had fucked that up somehow. Like in a route video game where the character thinks to themselves, how could that have gone better. Only he didn't get a second chance.

He closes the door to his room behind him and sighs, letting the darkness stay as he passes the light switch and slips his jacket off for the day. At least when he goes to bed tonight the feeling of anger and jealousy subside. He doesn't feel quite as lost as he did in Russia.

That night he dreams of a shoreline, as he tosses and turns in the covers, the ocean laps over him as he struggles to swim. The waves in this dream don't feel cold. Yet they are harsh. He feels himself choke on the salt water as he struggles to make it to shore. His limbs grow more and more numb, dull, and exhausted. His heart pumps faster as he feels himself giving up as he gets closer. Eventually, his limbs can no longer carry him. Luckily, the waves could carry him from that point, washing him up to shore. All he must do is make sure to get enough air. He chokes and struggles, then sucks in a deep breath and slips into the darkness. The water consumes him.

The sound of the gong reverberates through his ears again. The dull pain etches into his brain as he notices the warm forgiving sand under his body. He coughs up some salt water as his eyelids glow pink and orange from the light of the sunset. His limbs feel the great relief of rest, and as he opens his eyes reality washes over him. The sound of waves is not existent. Only a soft hum coming from within the walls that wouldn't be audible if any other noise was present. The white popcorn ceiling drifted as his eyes grew too tired to focus on them. The covers soon felt much too heavy. He sleeps without them tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

The last few meetings have gone as expected. Alfred tried to listen, but simply couldn't after the first 20 minutes. When he visited the States in between meetings, instead of coming to his own home, he decided to do some traveling. He spent some time in the Rocky Mountains, the deserts of Nevada, and the corns fields in Missouri.

The meeting in DC starts in one week. Alfred makes his way to a little cozy apartment in New York, New York for this period and had decided on calling up Ludwig after spending so much time alone. "Hey, remember when you said… that I could talk to you if I needed to?"

Ludwig pauses on the other end of the line, and the sound of foot steps cease. "Ja..?"

"…Well, I was wondering if you had the time to visit before the next meeting?"

"I'll call you back."

…

Alfred lets the silence ring in his ear after Ludwig hangs up. Huh. Although an immediate anxiety fills his chest, the American sighs. Time to find something to do in an attempt to take his mind off of things. He glances to the gaming system hooked up to a rather large television set up. It's been a long time since he's played any games. The nostalgia itself was enough to perk his mood. After sitting down to look through the games, none seemed appealing enough to actually go through the effort of playing. He sighs again and looks to the television. He didn't really feel like watching that either. He didn't feel like going out anymore, or going for another walk. The realization that he was alone in the apartment echoed with the sound of the games he shoves back into their spot. There wasn't another sound.

Alfred sits on the floor for a long while, letting the carpet tickle the insides of his fingers as he allows his hands to mindlessly play with it. "There's nothing to do." The blond groans out in exasperation and finally manages to stand up and linger around the apartment. There's nothing to clean, but perhaps dusting wouldn't be a bad idea. The radio dial gets pressed and turned up, as Alfred re-acquaints himself with the popular music this month, and the American cleans with a purpose as he belts out the lyrics to any songs he had previously learned.

At the end of the day, that seemed to not exist, he checks his e-mails on his phone. Oh- there's one from Ludwig.

 _America,_

 _I apologize for hanging up. I was incredibly busy and only answered in case it was an emergency. I am afraid I won't be able to call you back today, and instead I am rushing this e-mail. I will get back to you as soon as I have an answer. It appears I will not be able to join you tomorrow either._

 _Sorry, Ludwig_

The e-mail was time stamped for about an hour after Alfred called. He smiles to himself without realizing it, and analyzes the e-mail to make sure he didn't miss anything. Alright. He can't visit. No biggy. Why didn't he just send a text though, and why did he sign his name at the end instead of the Country? Alfred decides to send an e-mail in return.

 _Hey man,_

 _Thanks for the heads up! I'm in New York right now. Just let me know if I need to pick you up at the airport in a day or so. If not, that's cool. I know you're a busy man._

 _It's all good, Alfred_

Alfred stares at the screen trying to determine if his response is appropriate. After a long moment he decides to hit send and tosses his phone aside. He fixes his glasses as his stomach aggressively rumbles. Woah, forgot to eat.

…

The next morning Alfred confirms the reservations he has for the vacation house he has set up in Florida with a short phone call. He checked the weather, and it appears the weather will be nice. It is supposed to be about 85 degrees Fahrenheit, or about 30 Celsius. It's not as hot as Alfred would have hoped, but it is only spring. Maybe the Russian will still think it's warm enough?

Alfred holds his phone close to his chin and ponders what exactly he should pack. Packing a lot of sunscreen for the pale guy would probably be a good idea. He stops and looks back at his phone. Maybe Ludwig e-mailed him back. He taps on the application and scrolls. No, he hasn't responded. He's probably busy.

At about this time Alfred started to wish he made more friends with humans, but they always die.

…

As the sun begins to set Alfred checks his e-mails again. He sees there's one from Ludwig hours ago and perks up to read it. He opens it and his eyes start to dart across it.

 _Alfred,_

 _I regret to inform you that I cannot make it onto a plane tonight. A lot has come up. Perhaps tomorrow. Naturally, I will inform you if so._

 _Ludwig_

Alfred reads the e-mail and sighs, simply tossing his phone away. That's okay. Tomorrow he plans to figure something to do with Ludwig if he ever manages to make it over the ocean. It did look like he was trying. Alfred sits there and ponders if it's time to call Arthur. Maybe Matthew can give him some company? Last he heard about Mathew though, is that he was busy preparing for Hockey season.

The American huffs and looks to the television. Then he looks to the floor. Then he lays down. "Hm." He reaches over and picks his phone back up and looks at it. What time is it in Moscow? It's probably morning, right? Alfred sends a quick text to Ivan.

 _Dude, don't forget to bring swim stuff. Oh, and sunglasses. Don't bring your stupid coats. You might have a heat stroke._ _8:38pm_

After hitting send Alfred puts the phone down and looks up at the ceiling. Maybe having Ivan around for a little while won't be so bad. Although, not much thought had been spent towards thinking about that night on the roof top. Alfred shakes his head. That darn Russian. He's probably just messing with him again. The phone vibrates and Alfred picks it up and looks to it.

Ivan responded with a 'thumbs up' emoji. Well, that's the end of that? Then there's the sunglasses emoji. Alfred makes a face at the phone. Then an actual message:

 _I do not understand why I am needing sunglasses._ 8:45pm

Alfred quickly responds. _The sun will damage your eyes dude._

 _Well, dooood, I do not plan to stare at it._

 _The rays bounce off the water and make it extra harsh, ass._

 _I correct myself, I do not want to wear any._

 _Fine, but don't come bitchin' to me when your eyes burn every time you blink._

Alfred glances outside and sees its starting to get darker out. He glances to his phone and when there isn't an immediate message he sets it down and goes to get ready for the night, cleaning a dish or two, taking a shower, and then finally settling into bed. He checks his phone one last time. There's a text from Ivan.

 _I'm sorry if it is of inconvenience, but I do not wish to swim._ 9:12pm

Alfred stares at the message for a little while and then decides to check to see how early it is in Moscow... "Oh god."

 _I'm sorry Russia, I thought it would be later. I didn't think it would be 4 in the morning._ 9:36pm

He pauses after sending the message. He doesn't want to swim? Well he's always wearing that coat and scarf of his, even when it's really nice out. Maybe he'll change his mind after he sees that there's more private areas to swim. Is he self conscious? Seriously? He wore a damn dress that one time-

Alfred looks to his phone and there wasn't another message. He flips through some different apps before falling asleep.

…

The next morning Alfred takes his time waking up, rolling around in the sheets until he can't take it anymore and slips out of bed rubbing his eyes. He puts his glasses on and looks at his phone. Oh, Ivan…

 _It is no problem. I could not sleep anyway._ 1:27am

Alfred tucks his phone into the pocket of his bed pants and goes to eat a bowl of cereal and wake up a little more before replying. He opens the curtains so the sunlight can sink into the apartment and brighten things up a bit. He replies with one hand while stuffing cereal into his face.

 _Why not big guy?_ 7:14am

It was nice to be able to contact the other nations to easily now. Even if time differences should be more carefully considered. It's only been so easy for a few decades, and at first some older nations like Russia didn't care for texting for awhile. It took Arthur a really long time to stop sounding like such a geezer, and even now Alfred contemplates whether or not Arthur has switched from a flip phone yet.

Thinking back on it, maybe Ivan was sending those emojis because they're all over the internet. His population does make some funny memes he'll give him that. It made the current political climate a lot easier to laugh off, even though it wasn't really funny.

The phone rings and he nearly chokes on his cereal trying to swallow the bite in his mouth before answering the phone. "H-hello?"

"It's Germany."

"Oh, hey. What's up?"

"I can get on my jet in a few hours and be there by the time it is night time where you are."

"Oh.. oh! Cool. I thought you were going to be too busy to make it."

"Ja. Things come up. I took care of it though. I'll see you. Which air strip should I use?"

"I'll send you coordinates to one outside of the city on Manhattan so you don't have to deal with the city airport. It's kind of a mess."

"Thank you." Ludwig sounds stressed.

"You know, you can stay there if you nee—" He hangs up. Well.

Alfred stands there for a moment with the phone to his ear. Ludwig will be there tonight. He puts his phone down and quickly searches for the coordinates to send him. After he sends them in a quick text he looks at his apartment. It was small. Comfortable. Suddenly it didn't look as clean as it did when he went to bed last night. Every little thing started to catch his eye.

The rest of the morning became a dedication to cleaning. Alfred blasted the radio as he washed his bed sheets, his dirty laundry, he vacuumed, swept, washed the spare blankets, made sure dishes were put away, cleaned the counters, and various small chores. Luckily, he had already dusted. It was a small enough apartment for cleaning to not be such a large task. He clicks the radio off, and it was already well into lunch time.

As he sets some water to boil he glances over seeing his phone light up. He mixes some salt in and then leans against the counter pulling his phone up. "I get a little too happy when this thing lights up."

 _It just happens sometimes._ 12:22pm

 _I hear ya. I've had that problem on and off._ 12:24pm

Alfred looks at the sent message and immediately regrets sending it so quickly. Russia probably had work all day in Moscow. Germany has been so busy. Yet with his current situation Alfred was doing absolutely no work. In fact, he stayed as far away from DC as possible. God, what was he doing? Climbing mountains? Soul Searching? What kind of Nation is he? He nibbles at his lip.

If there was a time for him to be putting in his two cents as to how his nation should be run it was **now**. Yet, that's why he was in the predicament he was in. Nobody listens anyway. It felt like his country didn't matter, like he didn't matter. It was all corrupt, and none of that was going to be fixed. Not in DC.

So, what could he do?

The boiling pot distracts him from his thoughts and he stirs in some macaroni. Hum. He looks to his messages.

 _Have you? Did anything help?_ 12:27pm

 _That depends on what's causing your insomnia dude._ 12:32pm

He snickers to himself at the thought of Ivan asking him for help.

 _I do not wish to share that._ 12:33pm

. . .

Alfred drives out to the air strip at the designated time to pick up the German. He waits standing outsides of the car, leaned up against it. He looks to the Jet that begins to land and assumes it must be his. It really is nice they all have their own accommodations at this point in time. It makes traveling so much faster and easier.

Once the jet is completely still Alfred pushes off the car and walks out to meet the German. A couple of men let Ludwig off the plane and look to Alfred before they get back in the jet. Alfred smiles to the German. "I'm glad you could make it."

Ludwig nods and closes his eyes with a soft sigh. "I'm broken."

"I bet man. C'mon. You can head to bed as soon as we get back."

Alfred drives the sleepy man back to his apartment, and after parking in the lot brings him up to the door. He unlocks it and lets the other in. "You can go ahead and put the bag in my room. There's only one bedroom, but I took all of my personal stuff out of there so you can have somewhere to yourself for however long you're staying."

Ludwig puts away his reading glasses and wanders to the room to set his bag down. "I hope you do not mind me staying until after the meeting. It is much cheaper and less exhausting that way."

"Of course, man. Don't you have a lot to get done though?"

Ludwig shakes his head, "I managed to get all of it done."

Alfred blinks. Oh. He must have pushed to get it all done to see him. "Germany, you didn't have to do that." Still, the American couldn't help but beam an appreciative smile.

The German shrugs, "When it comes to the European Union it is best to get things done earlier than later anyhow."

"So that's what you were busy with."

With a nod he continues, "France has been weird since England left, und I mean our France not the people that run the country. I helped him through his part of the work."

"How's Italy?"

"Glad to have me gone for a few days. He wants to practice football without me around so I don't know what skills he is developing."

It takes Alfred a moment to realize he's is talking about what he calls soccer. "Oh, Matty has been working on his hockey. I should probably get back into swimming or Australia is going to get better than me one of these days." Ludwig shrugs and holds his hand over his mouth to hide a yawn. "Do you need anything to eat before you go to sleep?"

With a small head shake the German replies, "No, I can stay awake with you."

Alfred giggles at that, "Dude, you're obviously exhausted. Go get some rest. I'm just glad you're here. Seriously, don't push yourself." The American coaxes Ludwig to the bed room with his hand pushing against the small of his back, "C'mon." Ludwig sits on the bed and looks to the covers. "I just washed all the blankets and sheets so don't worry."

"Ah, right."

Alfred walks to the doorway and smiles on his way out the door. "Thank you for coming, Ludwig. It means a lot." He closes the door behind him and grins to himself. It was nice to not be alone.

He walks to the dryer and pulls some of the spare blankets out and goes to curl up on the couch. He steadily realizes he didn't grab his pajamas so he slips his pants off and sleeps in his boxer briefs.

* * *

 **I now have a poll up asking for votes on which ship shall sail. Please vote for your preferred ship! It is now up on my profile. If you want to express your thoughts more in depth feel free to comment or private message me. Thank you!  
This chapter is longer than the others, just for those sticking around!  
**


	6. Chapter 6

In the moments of early consciousness all that can be heard is the sound of a shower running. Alfred blinks a few times and groans. God, the couch was painful. He sits up and rubs his eyes, blinking and staring at the blurry furniture. He slips his glasses on and stands up to stretch properly.

So, Ludwig was taking a shower. Alfred peeks at his phone. Oh.

 _I perhaps shall tell you why I can not sleep._ 2:00am

Alfred blinks at the phone and replies.

 _Sure thing man. And hey, if all else fails, a warm glass of milk might help with a good book._ 6:57am

 _Gross. I don't think that will help._ 7:00am

"Why are you grinning at your phone?" Alfred shoots his head up to see Ludwig drying his hair with a towel, already dressed for the day. That's impressive.

Alfred shifts his weight. "I'm texting someone." Ludwig smirks and raises his eyebrows. Alfred retorts "Not like that." He didn't realize he was smiling… Alfred gets up and goes to take shower, gets dressed and the like. After slipping into the room and putting some clothes on the American walks out to the small kitchen area, and he looks to Ludwig sitting at the table looking at his own phone. "Are you ready to go get some coffee to start the day?"

"I thought you'd never ask. I'm surprised you're out of grounds." The two of them leave the apartment and walk to a nearby coffee shop in the city after putting their light jackets on. It wasn't far. Only about a block away. "Huh. I thought you would bring me to a Starbucks."

Alfred shrugs. "I think I'm starting to turn into a hipster dude. I've always really had a thing for supporting small business. I guess I just really got excited about becoming so international." He laughs, "Besides, this is the East Coast. They're called Dunkin' Donuts out here."

Ludwig makes a face and Alfred opens the door for him to enter. "You see, where I'm from the gentleman opens the door."

"Und where I'm from, the man enters first to scope." Ludwig smirks passing the other and enters the establishment.

"Is that something Gilbert came up with?"

"It wouldn't surprise me."

Alfred walks up to the counter and orders a tall shot in the dark along with his usual. "Did you want anything to eat? I kind of have something planned for today and it's a three-hour drive."

Ludwig blinks, "Three hours? That's ridiculous. What state are we going to?"

"Oh, we'll still be in this state."

"…I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

…

While they eat a light breakfast, and sip their coffees Alfred pulls up his phone to finally reply to the Russian.

 _So why can't you sleep?_ 7:57

Alfred puts his phone away and looks to Ludwig, whom was studying him. Alfred finishes chewing his food. "Uh, what's up?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

"You… were looking at me?" the American smirks and leans in a bit. "Would you like to explain why?"

Ludwig gestures a hand and shakes his head, "People stare sometimes, you'll have to get use to it."

"Okay man." Alfred takes another bite of his breakfast sandwich and internally groans. The one time he's socially perceptive and it doesn't matter because of cultural differences. Except maybe that was just an excuse? Regardless, the observation means nothing to the American anymore.

He shifts his eyes up while Ludwig is on his own phone. Probably checking the news or texting Feliciano or something. He always looks so diligent, so serious. It's nice to watch him relax, when his eyes finally soften into something more caring. His entire stature melts. Watching him wiggle his bottom lip with his own thumb while he spaces out into the screen was nearly impossible to look away from. It almost didn't look natural.

His ice blue eyes dart to the American and Alfred nearly freezes, caught. His expression shifts, hardens, but not harshly. Icy eyes become contoured by a fierce glaring expression, daring the American to defend himself, a sly smirk widening when he doesn't. Alfred remains frozen and finally breaks free, glancing to the wall next to them as he taps his fingers on the table. Is actually paying attention to what people are doing always this awkward? Alfred begins to recall why he hates it so much, and why being oblivious is so much easier.

"Still drinking sweet coffee, are you?"

Alfred welcomes the change of subject offered to him with a chipper tone to his voice. "Yeah, I mean it's just easier to go with what I know." Ludwig shakes his head in mock disappointment as Alfred continues. "I mean," he looks to his drink. "It does almost taste too sweet. I have tried adding less sugar and creamer to my coffee when I stay home. I still can't just drink it black though."

"Ja. It'll take time."

"Why should I cut it from my coffee to begin with? I like all the other stuff."

Ludwig picks up his coffee and puts it to his lips. "Sugar is bad for you, America. Maybe if your tastes change the rest of your country can see some improved health."

Alfred looks to his cup. "Right."

"What's good for you is an acquired taste." Alfred leans his cheek into his palm and looks down at his knuckles as his fingers press into the smooth surface of the table. His eyes shift up to Ludwig to show he was still listening. Even though he didn't really want to. Ludwig presses his lips flat. "You do know I haven't really been speaking about the coffee, don't you?"

The air fills with a weight that makes Alfred's shoulders suddenly feel sore. He swallows and begins to nod. "I still don't understand how it's suppose to make me feel better. I feel worse than ever."

"Explain?" Ludwig leans in and watches the other.

Alfred contorts his expression in a manor that can only be explained as uncertain. He struggles to push out the words. "Look, I… I feel down. I feel like I'm lazy, and I can't do anything right even when I try, so why bother? I feel angry at myself, at my people, and everyone else's for not being understanding. I want to hide, but I simply can't. Even when I was up in the mountains all I could hear was criticism. I know I'm awful. I don't want to make it anyone else's problem so I try to cover it up. Why did you tell me to try introspecting? It's honestly making me feel worse… I don't like this."

Ludwig manages a soft, comforting smile, even though it looks a bit forced on him as he sets his cup down. "I know." The German sighs. "Alfred… by covering up how you really feel, you're making it everyone else's problem. You can't sugar coat everything. It's not healthy. You're tearing yourself apart trying to make yourself out to be sweet all the time, and you simply aren't. You have problems of bigotry, violence, education, and various other internal problems. Trying to cover it up won't make them go away. You have to be honest with yourself, and also with others." Alfred tucks his arms within each other and looks down at the table. His eyes shift back up, and Ludwig tries not to melt at the sight of such adorable eyes. "You need help Alfred. I know you don't think anyone cares, and I know you feel like you have to be the hero, but you don't. We all care about you, and your people. Yes, there are differences, but making an ass of yourself and not letting anyone help you is only going to make it worse. If you show us how bitter you can be, perhaps we'll learn to like that flavor more than something that isn't meant to be there. Perhaps by knowing what you don't like about yourself and exposing it, you can truly change rather than just cover it up. You're not alone."

Alfred covers his mouth and tries not to let the tears forming in his eyes spill over. He shifts his eyes away and then closes his eyes for a lingering moment, then he shifts them to Ludwig. He swallows and tries to speak only after the lump in his throat goes down. "It hurts Ludwig. I don't want to do this anymore. I can't handle it. People are dying." His voice was low to prevent from making a scene in public.

"You can und you will." Alfred shakes his head in disbelieve while Ludwig continues, "You are taking the time you need to collect yourself. That's why I sent you to do some introspecting. You're improving already, look at you. You're opening up."

"I don't want these problems."

"You have them. They need to be improved."

"What if I can't do it?"

"Be patient with yourself. If there is anything you're good at, its not giving up."

"Should I be like Europe then?"

Ludwig pauses for a bit. His first response would be, yes, of course. He stops and thinks for a moment. "No. You should find your own solutions. They may end up being similar, or perhaps entirely different, but only you can determine what is best. You simply need to do it in a healthy way. Then maybe you can actually be content."

"Why are you even trying to help me?"

Ludwig stands up and takes their trash to the garbage. He waits by the door for the other to fallow. Alfred stands up and fallows the other out the door, and he fallows the German down the side walk. "Wait. Why are you walking so fast?" Alfred keeps up, his pace matching the German's. They briskly walk half of the city. Alfred huffs and looks to Ludwig nearly angry with him. "Why? Why are you trying to help me? Is this even for me? What is going on?" Ludwig stops once they make it to the ocean. He leans himself over railings that loom over the water, and he urns and leans his back into the railing, his arms crossed looking to Alfred. He looks to Ludwig letting his hair whip softly in the wind, the large green woman seeming to stand by him. "Why?"

"You have to remember what it's all about. It's not just about you. That'll give you the strength to work hard. Not only will you be happier after this passes, but everyone you interact with. If not for yourself, do it for them."

Alfred shakes his head and walks closer to Ludwig. "I still don't understand. How is this going to make everything better? The world seems so bleak no matter what I do."

"It'll get better. You just have to remember to go forward."

Alfred looks to Ludwig and holds his jacket closer to himself as the wind picks up. "…I'll try."

Ludwig stares at him for a long moment. His entire body tense. Eventually he relaxes and everything softens again. "Thank you."

Alfred smiles and pushes some of his own hair out of his face looking to him. He takes the German into his arms and squeezes him close. "Thank you, Ludwig." He tucks his face into his neck and squeezes him tighter.

Ludwig makes an "oof" sounds and manages to pat Alfred's back. After the American refuses to let go and lifts the other Ludwig finally hugs back. "Please put me down."

The American puts the man down and smiles to him, his eyes puffy and pink. Ludwig sighs a bit. "How long was that car ride again?"

Alfred shakes his head. "I just poured my guts out to you. You still have to tell me why you're helping me."

Ludwig puts a hand on his shoulder. "Because, I felt maybe I could help you, and I don't care for watching you suffer alone. Gilbert did that. He…" Ludwig shifts his eyes away.

"and you did that."

"Ja…"

"It seems like you still have a hard time sharing things?"

"It's constant effort."

"Does it get easier?"

Ludwig has a difficult time trying to explain. "With certain people."

"I hope I can be one of those people one day."

…

Ludwig won the battle to drive. Honestly, Alfred's driving skills were rather scary at times. Especially in New York. "Why do you drive like such an asshole?"

Alfred laughs, "Dude, you're not gonna get anywhere drivin' like a granny. Someone is going to pull in front of you every time, watch. At least it's not the south. No one uses their turn signal."

"You're not allowed to drive in my country."

"I usually just take the public transport out there."

Alfred looks to his phone once they hit the highway and he won't have to give so many instructions. He sees a message from Ivan. He bites his lip and opens it.

 _I have been having a hard time sleeping for various reasons. Many of which have to do with my own country. At slight, I am excited to go on vacation. Although, I don't think that has anything to do with it. I wish to spar with you. It has been too long. Expending some energy rather than sitting through meetings should help._ 8:12am

Alfred grins. God, a nice go at a friendly-ish fight sounds like so much fun.

 _I'd love to tussle!_ 8: 29am

"Who are you sexting?"

Alfred pulls his phone down and his face flushes a deep red. "What? I don't sext people Ludwig."

He chuckles, "France did the same thing to me. I reacted in almost the same way."

"I'm texting Russia if you must know."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He's been really stressed out. He asked to vacation somewhere warm after the meeting coming up."

"Looks like you have an opportunity to make a new friend." Alfred shrugs at the comment and looks back down at his phone.

 _Tussle? What does that mean Comrade?_

 _It means like, play fighting._

 _Oh. Like in a bed?_

Alfred blushes staring at the phone.

 _No! Not like in a bed!_

 _Well then it is cute you think I am playing._

 _What kind of fighting do you plan on doing?_

 _The fun kind._

 _The violent kind?_

 _Yes, exactly!_

Alfred holds his face into his hand and groans softly. Ludwig snickers in response. "So where are we going?"

"Saratoga."


	7. Chapter 7: Saratoga Turning Points

The fields of Saratoga were vast and dull. Alfred walks strait through the grass, Ludwig hesitating at the edge before finally trotting after the American. "Usually it's a lot greener, but it's only spring. It'll rain a lot until they are."

Alfred was fine, but Ludwig still felt groggy from the long car ride. "Er, what is this place?"

"It's where I finally got a foot hold. This is where it all changed. The Battle of Saratoga. It was the turning point of the American Revolution." Alfred looks down at his feet and shifts them in the grass watching it flatten under his feet. The wind was gentle, but it carries a cold dry wind, only soothed by the gentle sunshine. "Despite all the other wars I've been in, even the World Wars, I remember this one so vividly. I remember how dull, throbbing, yet numb my feet were in the winters when we were marching so much our feet bleed, soaking the snow with blood. I remember England and I- we never fought in winters just because that's how it was done back then. I remember well over 300 battles in the southern colonies alone, fighting… myself, because I didn't even know if I really wanted to separate from him. I remember how much I admired and respected him- but I also remember being left alone for the better part of a century, an entire century, to do as I wished, and when he returned he began telling me how to run my land." Alfred looks to Ludwig. "I remember reading European Literature that spoke of private property. The pursuit of it… I changed that to happiness. Back then it was simple."

"You didn't hate England?"

"No. I never did. I didn't even want to fight him. There was a Declaration… it wasn't enough. Of course, it seems so simple now. It had never been done before though!" Alfred looks to Ludwig. "It wasn't the same while it was happening! It was terrifying! He was all I knew, that and myself. He wouldn't let me trade with anyone else. I snuck it anyway but…" he huffs.

"Fighting for independence, enacting a government that only existed in books. I was so scared. I don't know how I managed to make it all work. France helped. Except he didn't help until," Alfred gestures to the abandoned field. "He knew I would win. It wasn't to help me. It was as a huge fuck you to England. Of course. I admired him back then regardless."

"Prussia helped me. He came and trained my troops. He trained them well. A lot of Americans weren't professionally trained. We just had a dream. That's how it always starts here.

"I remember working really hard. I remember being really unsure, but I kept going anyway. I think that's when you know you're doing the right thing. You're unsure.

"I remember England still wouldn't respect me. Not for some time to come.

"I remember feeling the deepest urge to gain as much land as possible.

"I remember everything being different." Alfred looks to Ludwig. "I don't want to be the person I was back then. Sometimes I envy him though."

Ludwig manages a small smile. "I understand that feeling. I'm sure the other nations deal with such feelings as well."

Alfred walks up to a cannon and pats it, feeling the dull warmth that the sunlight left on the surface. He slips onto the cannon and straddles it as Ludwig rubs the back of his neck and looks around hoping no one is watching. "Relax man. It's fine." Alfred rubs it some more and then smacks it. "I remember how scared some men were. Some men embraced death more graciously. Back then I thought that revolution might be the death of me too." Alfred laughs. "I think I speak for a lot of people when I say, I wish I could embrace death so casually." He pauses. "Although, now that I know what it's like to crave it I'm not so sure I envy those men anymore."

Ludwig watches the American as his words trail off and leap into new ideas. "So, I can't help but ask. Did you hate me during the world wars? The Cold War. Did you hate Russia?"

Alfred slips from the cannon and laughs rather obnoxiously. "No, never. My textbooks, media, they're hard to read from those times though. There's a lot of propaganda I don't like to admit to. It's easier to get people to fight if—"

"I understand."

"I read over a text book from just a few generations ago." Alfred cringes. "It said that Russians all have big noses and various other stereotypes. It- I'm not proud of that. I'm sure there's a lot about me in everyone else's text books, but I never actually hated him.

"There was a young woman I met that went to the USSR as a student. She pretended to be a vegetarian so the family, when given meat by the government to impress her, would be eating the meat rather than herself.

"There was an American man, he's now a history teacher, he went out there to study Communism and see how people were living. Actually- he was living in Germany at the time. He can't stand Communism, but he felt that Russians were incredibly nice people that deserved much more than what the government was doing to them.

"From the people that actually went- all I heard was nice things about the Russians themselves and nasty things about Communism. Why do you think I hate it so much? It was hurting him—

"He tries to tell me all this bullshit about how nice it was working out. He tries to tell me about a lot of things.

"I used him to forget my own problems by getting angry and scared.

"The competition was always so much fun. I knew I could beat him to the moon. I knew it. I had so many scientists. So many brilliant people working so hard. Men, women, people of color, and even." Alfred glances away and blushes. "Well uhm, actually some of your scientists from the war were scooped up and if they didn't come with they were threatened with death.

"I've done so many fucked up things. I don't even want to talk about. So many Ludwig. I don't know how to ever make up for it. It feels like I just can't stop. I mean for fucks' sake look at me. Take a long hard look at my country. Do you know what's actually happening?

"Do you know how hard it is to listen to people across the seas joke about how Americans just sue when for the most part all the negative attention is propaganda from the companies getting sued? You all joke about our low health standards are, about how expensive our health care is, and about how corrupted everything is, then in the same breath you mock the only legal action citizens can use to defend themselves. There are lobbyists keeping standards low, blaming American people for being stupid when coffee burns them to the bones and then perpetrates that the amount being sued for is egregious when the medical bills could put you on the street. Just a broken bone costs 50,000 dollars Ludwig. The solution to all of this!" Alfred laughs out harsh and loud. Ludwig cringes as the American bends over holding his stomach with a huge grin on his face. "Put a label on the cup! OH! It's hot you guys!" He laughs harder, "Americans are just stupid! We deserve it right? You're a piece of shit for suing a company! …So, no one does. Not the people that need it anyway. Only people with money and lawyers." Eventually Alfred's grin slips away and he stands up strait, and fixes his glasses. "They don't end up in the papers though. Do they?"

"Ludwig, I really don't feel so good. That's not even one of my bigger issues. That's just how life is now.

"Russia… he was wrong back then. I was too, I just didn't see it yet. I was too busy being right."

"We both need to change before it's too late. Certainly not by going back." Alfred looks down to the grass of the field. The sun was being blocked out by clouds. "C'mon man. It's going to rain soon. This isn't Europe. It'll go hard for a while and stop. This is New York. We don't really use umbrellas here. That's a Seattle thing."

Alfred leads Ludwig to a small gazebo and they lean against the rails. Ludwig didn't really know what to say. "I'm sorry for mocking—"

"Don't be man. It's totally cool. I just wish people knew what they were making fun of. It's just different here, you know? I've done the same thing though. Germans can take a joke." Alfred grins. "You're friends with me, aren't you?"

Ludwig didn't know how to respond to that. He wasn't one to force a laugh. When Alfred realized he didn't find it funny he looks down and shifts his weight. They both sit in silence, knowing they both had things to regret. The rain started to sweep in with the cold wind and pounded against the roof of the gazebo. It was rhythmic, and soothing. The cold front and the storm swept in a clean scent that filled them with some slight satisfaction scientists would claim is negative ions. After a swallow, Alfred breaks the tension. "Thanks for listening… I had no idea I had so much stuck inside me."

Ludwig finally smiles. "I told you it would help. It's nice to know you a little more. It might be hard to stop now that the gates are open."

Alfred lets out a "heh" with a smirk and presses his palms into the railing behind him, cold droplets starting to tickle his knuckles. "I think I'm okay with that."

…

Upstate was a lot different than the city. The trees were becoming lush in the spring time, and they were everywhere. Alfred was right, it rained for an hour or so and as soon as the clouds left the air smelt sweet and fresh. They stop at a little orchard shop that was only beginning to get ready for the summer. The apples and such won't be ready until autumn, however there was still some fresh American themed food. "You know, sometimes I forget I even have my own food. Sometimes it just feels like I have a bunch of everyone else's."

Ludwig shrugs, "It makes sense. You are a nation of immigrants. My cities are growing more diverse as well. You'll always have fast food."

Alfred makes a face. "I know. It's just easy. I could make you home style burgers when we get back. Or even apple pie with home made crust. It's really good served hot with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side, or maybe I could make you-"

"You cook?"

"Yeah man, I usually don't have the time, but I totally do now."

"I actually enjoy baking myself."

Alfred looks to Ludwig surprised. "Really?!"

"Ja." He smirks. "I could prove it to you."

"We should have a bake off."

The rest of their time in the area was relaxed. They spend time by the river, along the canal, or just in the parks. They kept talking. Ludwig opened up every once in awhile about his own opinions. Alfred would go on and on about how excited he got about canals and boats. Trains were his favorite until the airplane came along. "I have so many trains." Alfred scrunches his nose in excitement. "It was amazing when I could spend just three days on a train and get from Florida to Washington state. Now you can just hop on your jet and come see me from across the ocean. It's amazing." Ludwig smirks and brings up his own success with trains, and they both got a gleam in their eye, discussing how they both adored the massive marching machines.

"Do we really have to drive three hours back to your apartment?"

"I mean we could spend the night in a hotel or something."

Ludwig makes a face. Both of those options sound terrible. "We're flying to DC right?"

Alfred shrugs. "It's only a 4-hour drive."

Ludwig cusses under his breath in German and looks to him seeing he was being serious. "How was it three hours to get here and from the city it'll take four hours to get to DC?"

"The highways make a big difference. I can make it faster if you let me drive."

"We're flying."

Alfred laughs, "Okay dude. How are we getting back to New York City though?"

Ludwig stands there and eventually pinches the bridge of his nose. "Ugh. Okay. You can drive us back."

"WOOHOO!"

…

The car ride back was oddly tense. Eventually the German breaks the silence while Alfred drive. For whatever reason neither of them thought music was a good idea.

"So, are you und Russia dating?"

Alfred freezes up. "W-what? Man, no. We're just getting friendlier, that's all."

"Really? It seems like you get really happy every time he texts you." The American stays silent. There really was no denying that, was there? "You also seem to care a great deal about him, considering what you told me about the Cold War." Alfred swallows.

"I mean but politically—"

"You're a person too."

"I just—I don't know. He's hard to read."

"Ja, und?"

"What if he uses me?" Ah, so the truth comes out. "I mean, I've got this huge military and he's power hungry right now and everything is really confusing for me. I don't know if I can handle that right now on top of my own issues."

"Maybe you can help each other?"

"I don't know."

"I lot can happen in a week."

Alfred flushes and keeps his eyes on the road. Yeah, he was crushing on Ludwig pretty hard at the moment, but did he really like him like that? Or, was it just that he was actually treating him like a person? Yeah, he's hot and all, and the way he's starting to relax around him is nice, but maybe he's still trying to be with Feliciano? The thought of curling up on Ivan, not a washboard six pack like the German, but someone that looked so soft and after playing in mounds of cold snow, maybe by a fire… It's not like he hadn't thought of it before. Ivan was certainly more playful than Ludwig was. Something about the friendship he was starting to develop he didn't want to ruin with the man sitting next to him.

"You should hear some of the things he says about you when you're not around."

"W..what?" Alfred glances to Ludwig before shifting his eyes back to the road. "What does he say about me?"

Ludwig looks out the window. "Oh. I don't know. Perhaps you should ask him yourself." He smirks.

Alfred huffs. "C'mon man you can't do that to me!"

"I can und I will."

Alfred pouts.

"He says he's worried about you."

* * *

 **The story of the girl going to the USSR was actually my aunt.**  
 **The history teacher was, you guessed it, my history teacher.**

 **I have more stories of Americans going to the USSR, but those shall be saved for later. :3c  
The polls are still open! RusAme is winning the ship race! That can change, however, I will be going along with Germany being a squish rather than a crush at least up until we see how the vacation goes. **


	8. Chapter 8

The rest of the time with Ludwig is nice. A couple days of hanging out, catching up, and unloading a lot of baggage. They baked for an entire day, letting the apartment get entirely too hot. On the drive to DC Ludwig blasted music to try to forget how terrifying it was when someone changed lanes or whenever Alfred was even slightly distracted by something. Every time he complained it was met with laughter that managed to make its way past the music.

They go to Alfred's home in DC for the meeting a day early. It was white, and much larger than his apartment in New York, sitting on the outskirts of the city. It had a paved drive way leading into the garage and a quaint home that looked like it hosted three bedrooms. Ludwig jumps out of the car as quickly as he can, not only to simply feel the ground but to stretch his legs. Alfred pops out and lays his arms across the roof of the silver Pontiac, sporting sunglasses for the drive. "Is there anything you need to get done while we're here?"

Ludwig groans as he pushes his hands up against and leans into his knee, stretching his other leg behind him. "Actually. I hope you do not mind, but I would very much like my space. I have a hotel room for the meeting." Alfred just smiles. It was sad to see the other go, but he understood Ludwig was introverted and needed to charge up before the meeting.

"Of course, dude. I should probably get ready myself." It was also a bit of relief to be able to have some time to himself if he was being completely honest with himself. He had gotten so use to being alone, it was almost work to constantly be around someone.

"I'll get an uber."

While Ludwig stands out on the pavement he looks up at the sky covering his eyes from the sun. Alfred puts his packed bag inside to live here for a short time and hands him the sunglasses. "Here dude." He left the bag for the vacation in the trunk of the car and returns to stand out with the other.

"I have a question for you."

"Yeah?"

"How many places do you live?"

"Well, I have somewhere near every major city. I am rather partial to my house out in Montana though. It's far away and all my own."

"Would you call it your home?"

Alfred stops and thinks about that. "I'm not sure. It's been a long time since anywhere has felt like home."

. . .

The house felt empty, but there was a charm to it. Alfred opens all the windows to let some air go through it. He presses the button on a stereo and a CD plays that was his favorite album about 10 years ago. He sits in the pit of nostalgia and decides It wasn't worth dusting this place since he'll be going with Ivan to the vacation spot. He sits down and lets the music swallow him up. What should he even say at the meeting?

Alfred ponders why he wanted the UN so bad. It's not like it was going to achieve world peace or anything. It was really nice to be able to see everyone, and the people that ran the UN just kind of let them play and piss about. Occasionally what they say actually had some ground, and really it gave everyone a chance to know how the other nations were acting or feeling at that period in time. How they felt about each other seemed to directly affect how the country reacts. Eh. Maybe he'll just wing it.

He stops and thinks about Ivan. It was weird to imagine him stuffed up in meeting rooms or behind a desk all day. It felt better to think about him farming, or drinking with friends, or sledding down a mountain. Something about him just sitting still felt wrong. An image of him drinking alone filled the American and suddenly he felt a deep pain in his chest. That's just a stereotype. Right? Before Prohibition he might have snuck a few drinks himself when he was alone, but…

A vibration runs through Alfred pocket and he fumbles to eagerly check his phone. He never replied to Ivan the last time and got too nervous to text him about something else. Only, it was just a message going out reminding everyone of what time the meeting was tomorrow. Alfred sighs and slips the phone in his pocket.

Hopefully things go well.

. . .

Nations sit around the table for the meeting, collecting one by one. Of course, they wait for everyone to join them. Countries like Italy slipping in a little late, but he eagerly sits next to Germany and they chat, catching up until it's time to begin.

Alfred's gaze shifts to Ivan's seat. He still wasn't here. A deep anxiety starts to rise in his stomach. A million disasters pop into his head, a plane crashing, a car crashing, a car running him over, and blood everywhere in each scenario. That can't kill him. He'd be back. Right? What if he was out in the middle of the ocean, just sitting there?

Romano slips in. Everyone is here. Everyone except Russia. Why? Alfred recalls Ivan asking him not to let their bosses know. He didn't. No one knew about this. He made sure of that. He pauses remembering that he used his own phone to make sure he had the reservation. He never mentioned anyone else would be there though. His own heart started throbbing in his chest and floods his ears. The roof of his mouth was dry, and his feet suddenly felt like there was too much pressure on them as he stood before everyone. Everyone except the person he wanted to see.

It was well past the time to start the meeting and everyone looks to Alfred. C'mon big guy, just walk through the door…

"Uh. Hey guys." He chuckles nervously and rubs the back of his neck. "I guess its time to start the meeting, huh?"

Alfred does what he does best and bullshits for the better part of 20 minutes to start off the meeting. No one was really paying attention anyway. A relief for once. Alfred looks to Ludwig when he gets to sit down and everyone starts to discuss things. Ludwig shrugs. Feliciano seemed unaware of the situation, and when Alfred shifts his gaze to Francis he seems entirely too far away to be able to help. Arthur of course, was bickering at him in some sort of weird attempt to cheer him up. Yao took a glance at Ivan's seat and sat bored, his cheek in his palm and found someone else to talk to. Alfred makes a face. "Uh, China."

Yao glances to him. "Oh, hey America."

"Do you know where Russia is?"

Yao shrugs. "I saw him at the airport when I landed. He seemed fine. I don't know why he's not here."

So, he was at the airport? Maybe he was just really late? The nations were starting to get into the point of the meeting where everyone bickers. Alfred watches everyone's attention go to Ludwig as he does his yelling bit. Alfred flashes a huge grin at him and slips behind the chairs out of the room while he does. When he's done yelling the only sound in the room is a sassy "sheesh" that came from a certain Chinese man. Voices soon flood the room again.

Alfred turns away from the meeting room and heads for the exit, walking rather fast. As he turns the corner he bumps into a tall figure and two voices push out an "oof". "America?"

Looking up, Alfred sighs in relief. "Oh man, Russia, why are you so late?" That smile he looked up at was going to be the death of him.

"I got stuck in customs. Apparently, something I brought is not allowed."

"Dude, what did you bring?"

Ivan just grins at the American, who looked a bit concerned. "You will see. It took some convincing for them to figure out who I was. They did not believe I could have it. I did not want to, but I had to call my boss after my patience wore thin, and they let me through." The Russian glances up and sees that no one was in the hallway. "Hasn't the meeting started? Why are you out here?"

Alfred shifts his eyes away and chuckles. "I was going to go look for you. I thought maybe you got yourself in jail or in the hospital or something."

"You were worried about me? Of all people? You have little faith, America. It is still… hm. Cute that you felt you had to come look for me."

"Whatever man, let's just go."

"Wait." Alfred looks to him and waits for him to finish his thought. "Is everything for our arrangement...?"

Alfred grins. "Shut up, dude. You're gonna get us in trouble. I handled it."

They slip back into the meeting and it appears no one missed them. Yao's eyes shift to Ivan. "What did you do this time?"

Ivan laughs, "Probably exactly what you think."

Arthur looks to Alfred and makes a face before he looks back to Francis as they slip back into their bickering. The American sighs and looks away, wondering if maybe he should just space out again. He looks to Francis and Arthur again, and he starts to watch them. The way Arthur's brows start to twitch and the way Francis throws his hands up seems rather dramatic. He starts to laugh. They look at him. "You guys are funny. Why is it that you bicker like that all the time?"

"It's fun." Arthur states matter-of-fact and crosses his arms with his ever-permanent pissy expression.

"It helps me get all my aggression out." Francis purrs putting his chin into his palm, letting his pinky graze his lips.

"Huh." Alfred looks to them. He never thought of it that way. "Soooo, what you guys like to argue all the time?"

"We're not arguing, it's more like—" Francis looks up trying to find the right word.

Arthur clears his throat and finishes the sentence for him. "Venting."

"Sure." Francis shrugs. "That's close enough. It's more playful than you think."

"Whatever frog."

Francis makes a dramatic sound like he was offended and they go at it again.

Alfred glances over to see Ludwig and Feliciano. The Italian had his hands up speaking so quickly it sounded like a motor running. Ludwig was watching patiently, half listening, but mostly just being there for the Italian to latch on to on occasion.

Then his attention goes to Kiku. He just… sat there. "Hey man, are you doing alright?"

"Yes, America."

"You sure?"

"I am just…thinking."

Alfred chuckles nervously, "Okay, man." Maybe he was planning all their deaths, jeez.

It was weird. He used to see all this chaos as proof of the world's dysfunction, but maybe, just maybe if he payed more attention like he should: he'd notice that this was exactly how everyone wanted it.

Alfred looks to Matthew and the sight nearly had him in tears. It was too hilarious. He starts to snicker trying to hold in the giggles seeing the Canadian sit there with his head back, snoring softly while his bear looks to Alfred. It was pretty smart of him to use his invisibility to just start sleeping. What Alfred recognized as the bear from the laundry commercials tilts its head. "Who?"

He pats the bear on the head. "Exactly."

For whatever reason, even though it was the same as it's always been, everything felt right in the world.

"Hey Japan?"

"Hm?"

"Wanna help me prank Canada?"

. . .

After the meeting Alfred lingers to wait for the Russian. As everyone shuffles out, Arthur crosses his legs and rests his chin within his interlaced fingers. Eventually, after the hum of chatter and foot steps dissipates, it's silent. Alfred sits there, wanting to say something, but he doesn't know what.

"So, a Russian, an American, and a Brit are all sitting in a room." Arthur smirks shifting his eyes to Alfred. "What's the punchline? Am I missing something?"

Alfred laughs. He usually has a quick come back to things like this, but the nerves resting on the tip of his tongue forbid an answer. There was no reason to be so nervous. Yet, his palms felt clammy. Arthur steady lifts one of his eyebrows, and his hands start to fall back as he leans into his chair. "Alfred."

"Yeah?"

"Have a nice night." Arthur stands up and waves him off, giving him an expression that can only be read as don't-be-stupid. As the American's eyes fallow him, he sees that he's joining Ludwig and Francis in the hallway. They seem to have a joined chuckled and leave.

Ivan waves back and watches them go. "What was that about?"

Alfred groans and tilts his head back. "Why is he such an asshooooole?"

"Maybe that's where you get it from."


	9. Chapter 9

With suitcases in the back of the car, Alfred starts the car and rolls his shoulder, getting ready for another fucking long car ride. Ivan gets to control the music, listening to an incredibly large arrange of music from his phone. All hail the aux cord. His taste ranged from international to pop, to metal, to rap, to old jazz, to old Russian folk music.

Alfred chuckles listening to the music. "I remember around the same time George Washington listened to classical in his office, I was out with the folk of the town dancing to jug music. Oh, it was so much fun."

Ivan grins in response. "I used to be able to dance to anything. I bet I could out show any folk dance of yours."

"I'm sure you could, but can you tap dance?"

"Can you ballroom?"

Alfred opens his mouth and then closes it. "England taught me how to waltz once. It was about a five-minute lesson."

"I can do more than waltz."

"You'll have to prove it." After a moment Alfred grins. "I bet I could twerk better than you."

Ivan bursts out with a harsh laugh. "You will have to prove it."

Five hours into the car ride and they make a stop for food, bathroom, and gas necessities. It was dark out, and they still had a long way to go. Alfred got an energy drink and chugs it while Ivan stands next to the car. The American makes a sound after pulling the can from his lips and looks to him. "You're going to want to take that coat off."

"Do you want to wear it again?"

Alfred flushes and huffs. "No! It's going to get hot. Do you feel how much heavier the air is here? It might be night time, but you'll see."

"I will take it off when I feel hot."

"Did you bring sunscreen like I asked?"

"I don't think I'll need it."

"You're so lucky I have a shit ton. You would be a lobster by the end of this week."

"What are you going to do? Make me wear it?"

Alfred just glares at him and takes a long sip of his energy drink, not breaking eye contact trying to be as threatening as he can. He finishes it off until he feels his hands nearly shake from the caffeine. Time to get back on the road.

As they start driving again, Alfred gets a random thought. "Why aren't you complaining about the long drive?"

Ivan just giggles. "I am the largest country in the world. You think I can't handle a little drive?"

Oh yeah.

Alfred tries to convince Ivan to sleep, but the Russian assures he wouldn't be able to anyway. When there's only 45 minutes remaining Alfred gets excited although his energy high from the caffeine was shot, and now he was only groggy and his stomach felt weird. Even Ivan's eyelids were starting to get a bit heavier. "Say, Russia."

"Hm?"

"What did you bring into my country? What is in my trunk right now?"

Ivan giggles sleepily. "Vodka, of course. I'm surprised you didn't just guess. Apparently, it is not okay to bring so much without a licence or something, but I wanted to bring enough for my own vacation."

"You've been working hard, huh?" Alfred feels his cheeks tighten. He felt like he had gotten nothing done lately.

Ivan shrugs. "I don't consider what I do now hard work. I just do what I'm told." His top lip stretches as his nose scrunches to the side. "I don't care much for that."

"I don't think either of us do."

"I appreciate you doing this for me."

Alfred couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, of course man. You deserve it."

Once they get to the beach house Alfred parks the car and lets out a relieved huff leaning back for a moment before hopping out of the car. Ivan blinks his eyes open and looks at the building. It's so dark out the paint looks blue, but what it really was he couldn't tell. He joins the American outside and they both stretch their bodies up as tall as they can. "Let's just get our bags inside and go to sleep before the sun comes up."

Ivan goes and grabs two bags from the car while Alfred goes to a key holding box and punches a code in for the key to become available to him. He opens the door letting Ivan in and goes to grab his own bags before slipping into the building.

He flicks on the lights.

The kitchen was big and open, the living area right beside it with a nice comfy looking couch and a large television. The glass doors that made the ocean visible from where they stood were large and gracious. The floor was a dark wood, the lights were high, and to their left was a hallway leading to the master bedroom and bath. The right lead to the garage and laundry room. "I'm glad I went with this place."

Ivan nods. They explore the building a little and stumble around before finding the master bedroom. It was nice yeah, but the bed was the key feature. It was huge. The comforter looked thick and plush. Alfred fixes his glasses looking at it. "Well, this is where you get to sleep."

"Huh? Why?"

"I'll sleep in the room right next to this one."

Ivan was too tired to argue, so he dropped his bags. They slip into the main bath and Alfred blinks. Woah. "I totally forgot about the hot tub."

"Sure, you did." Ivan yawns. "I'm going to try to get some sleep. Good night little America."

"G'night dude."

Alfred goes into the room next door and slips in. There was a full-size bed with covers that looked rather effeminate, pink and white. Al turns the lights off, slips his clothes off and passes out, not getting the chance to let his mind roam. So, his dreams do it for him.

He was on the same beach as in the last dream. It was still night, and he looked to the orange moon, full and bright. He looks down to his toes. "Why always here?" Alfred looks up to the edge of the beach and walks up, making his way through tall tan grass before making it into the forest. A deciduous forest. This isn't a Florida beach… Alfred looks up at the stars. They were no help. His mind had created constellations and patterns that don't exist. He holds his arms within each other feeling the warm wind sting him with a cold bite from the dampness of the ocean. He was still soaking wet. He tries to make a fire.

Alfred wakes up and pushes the covers off himself. Ugh, it's hot. He forgot how you need to let your blood thin to be used to this kind of heat. He slips out of the bed and goes to his suitcase, pulling out some fresh clothes before peaking his head out of the room and looks around. He sneaks into the bathroom in his undies and takes a shower. His stomach felt weird and his body still felt groggy. There was a sensation of getting little sleep. He lets the hot water wash over him and clean him off.

After drying himself and putting his clothes on he slips out to the open area to see Ivan was already cooking up food. Just then, as the scent of whatever it was wafted over, Alfred realized just how hungry he was. "What are you making?"

Ivan turns. He was wearing a grey t shirt with that scarf over it. "It is what I found in the fridge. We should pick up food. We have eggs and toast."

"That's it?"

Ivan nods in confirmation and turns back to the eggs before plating them. "I figured you would be hungry though." He smirks.

"I mean, you're not wrong."

…

After a morning of tired, hectic grocery shopping to make sure they wouldn't have to go out a second time they make it back to the house. Alfred, being the type of person to only want to make one trip back inside, hangs various heavy things on Ivan and carries the rest, some bags being held in his teeth on their way inside, his posture making him out to be a bustling crab as he waddles inside.

"Why didn't you just buy Vodka here?"

He laughs, "I am not drinking your garbage."

"Are you going to preach to me about how I should drink it plain and not add anything to it?"

"Huh? Nyet. Do whatever you want. I mean… if you're a pussy. Anyway, I am responsible for your consumption since you're underage in your own country."

"I'm hundreds of years old I don't want to hear that. Besides, it's not like it stops anyone." The American pouts.

"I still had to buy you your moonshine."

"Yeah… thanks for that."

"Why does it come in jars? That is inconvenient."

"It's the whole southern gimmick. I kinda like it like that anyway."

"You even got apple pie, could you be more stereotypical?"

"Yeah, okay mister I-only-drink-Russian-Vodka." Alfred snickers and starts to put everything away. "I'll make you such stereotypically American meals you'll start bleeding eagle feathers."

"That sounds awful. I would go to my own country in shame."

"You'd get a Babushka beat down dude."

Ivan starts to laugh. "They would certainly feed me well with traditional food until I am better."

Alfred couldn't help but think of how Francis and Arthur bickered. He preferred it like this, a little more light-hearted with some giggles. He faces the other after finishing putting things in the fridge with his hands on his waist. "So, it's universal for grandmothers to feed people way too much?"

"It appears so, although I have no idea why."

Alfred keeps his hands on his hips and starts to grin devilishly. "So, are we going swimming or what?"

"I told you I didn't want to?"

"But we have our own little chunk of beach! No one will see you! C'mon I spent my own money for this."

Ivan glances away, "That is not the issue."

"Then what is it?"

"Maybe if you get me drunk enough I will show you."

"Is that a hint?" Alfred pulls out the heavier bag that was obviously full of Vodka and rummages through it, picking up two bottles at a time and attempting to read the labels. "Jesus, dude, you brought like, way too fucking much."

"That is just enough what are you talking about?"

"Let me make you something to eat for lunch before we start the day drinking, 'mkay?"

"Uh, sure."

While Alfred makes a hearty carb based lunch, he keeps talking to the Russian, sitting down at the little bar area in the kitchen, watching him cook. "So, is there anything you wanna do while you're here?"

Ivan shrugs and glances away. "Not particularly."

Alfred looks down into the boiling water and dumps pasta into it before bending over the counter/bar and looks to Ivan with a little smile. "Are you okay, dude?"

Ivan forces a bit of a smile in return.

"It'll be okay. I promise. You don't have to pretend it doesn't suck in front of me. I'm not scared of you, remember?" Alfred pushes a bigger smile.

Ivan chuckles and smirks to him, "Well maybe you should be."

Alfred furrows his brows in disapproval and takes the wooden spoon in his hand gently hitting the Russian on the forehead with a thunk. "Nah, man."

The corner of Ivan's lip twitched, "And you should not do that, hm?"

"You wanna fight before or after we eat?"

Ivan's grin grows across his face. "I thought you forgot. After will do just fine."

Alfred chuckles darkly and fixes his glasses. "Alright, if you say so. What do you want on this?"

"Surprise me."

The American gives them booth heaping piles of noodles with whatever sauce he found, too lazy to make his own. It's not like either of them cared. Alfred eats quickly because he doesn't know how else to. Ivan, because he wanted to get on with something fun. Alfred puts the plates in the sink and rinses them off and presses his lips flat. God maybe he finally ate too much.

Ivan already got the shot glasses out and started pouring some. "We are going to play game."

"What game?" Alfred looks to Ivan unsure taking a seat next to him, but the taller man already had a smirk on his face.

"Simple. Truth or dare. You don't comply. You drink."

"Oh, pfff that game? Really? Are we teenagers?"

Ivan looks to Alfred and grins, "Well you—"

"Don't you dare fucking say it."

"—are at least legal." Ivan lifts one shot to start and as Alfred's face gets red and notably pissed.

Alfred sighs and lifts a glass clicking them together. "Alright man. How are we doin' this?" they both take the first shot and put the glasses aside. "I guess. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Why do you wear that scarf?"

"It is special to me. I received it when I was very young. The myths about it being possessed, well I suppose you could say it's true."

"UH." Alfred's face goes a little pale. "You mean like a ghost?"

"It is fine."

"Soooo, you don't wear it to cover up to hickeys all over your neck?"

Ivan makes a face. "What? Where would you get that from?"

Alfred starts to laugh, "That was a joke."

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to take another drink."

Alfred huffs and does as he's told, and puts the glass aside. "It's going to be like that, is it?" he shakes his head, "Alright, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Why won't you go swimming?"

Ivan reaches over and takes the shot without missing a beat. "Truth or dare?"

Alfred makes a hmm sound, "Truth."

"Why did you choose the beach?"

He has to think about that for a moment, starting off with, "I'm not really sure." He thinks about it some more and thinks about the dreams he's been having, but those beaches are different. "Maybe I wanted to see what you look like under all those layers." He snickers, somewhat joking. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Why don't you want to go swimming?" As Alfred starts to giggle as Ivan huffs and takes another drink.

"It is going to be like this?" Ivan smirks and shakes his head. "Truth or dare?"

"Don't act like you don't want an excuse to drink. Truth."

"Why do you stare at my nose so much?"

Alfred's face falls and he rubs the back of his neck. God. He noticed that? He already knows he was probably self conscious about it. The guilt swells in his stomach and knots in his throat making words hard to push out. "Uh, well it looks perfect for like, uh. Well. You see. Uh. Um. I really like uh, like, polar bear kisses. And. Well. Your nose. It would work really, mer, well."

"What does that mean?"

"Doesn't matter! I did it! Truth or dare!" Alfred grins, excited to be able to cheat his way out of that little confession. Ivan simply takes the drink he knows he'd have to.

"Would you like to spar now?"

"Of course, dude."

Ivan stands up and tucks his scarf into itself and gestures to the vacant beach. Alfred grins and trots to his room to put sweat pants on and a tank top. He slips out and they both walk to the beach, Alfred leaving his glasses behind on the counter. "So, you wanna break my glasses into a hundred bits, huh? That'll have to wait." He starts to stretch.

"Oh, breaking your bones will suffice. This sand is not as soft as snow."

"Aw man, missing home already? I'm almost offended."

Alfred squints to see the other clearer. They both stood, staring at each other across the beach with the sun high in the sky. It was hot and muggy out, each of them already beginning to sweat a little under their clothes suited for different weather. That was the American's advantage.

Without his glasses, sight was only a slight strain, but he ran toward the Russian anyway. Ivan standing perfectly still, predictably grabs Alfred by the wrist. The darker of the two uses the momentum to twist himself upward and push his body past the other landing on his feet and throws the Russian into the sand, only Ivan didn't let go. He laughs laying on the ground and slams Alfred into the flood next to him. They've done this dance a few times.

Alfred jerks his arm away and rubs it before standing back up with the Russian, Ivan swinging his palm for his chest to knock him off balance. There was enough time for Alfred to gain ground and swing a punch, but Ivan moves out of the way in time. "You are usually not so slow."

"Something's not right."

"Your arm?" Ivan grabs the other and tosses Alfred across the beach only for him to roll and pop back up, turning and looking to him.

"No, no, this isn't how we usually do it."

"What do you mean?"

Alfred runs up and swings his foot around for a roundhouse kick. Ivan digs his feet into the sand and shifts to grab his leg, Alfred again using the momentum to swing himself up, only this time he hooks his leg over the Russians neck and positions himself to sit over his scarf. "I mean, you're going easy on me." Alfred slips his hands down Ivan's scarf to get a choke hold, but at the sensation of the other's fingers grazing his bare neck he tosses him to the ground. Hard.

Alfred makes an oof sounds and opens his eyes looking up at the blurry figure. "Okay, never mind."

Ivan leans down and looms over him, "we should probably continue later." He helps him up and they walk back inside, Alfred slipping his glasses on at the counter. "Why were you giving me time to move?"

"I didn't really want to hit you, you seemed gentle this time."

"You consider that gentle?"

"Well, uh, yeah actually. For you at least."

"There is not snow everywhere. And rocks. I do not actually want to hurt you."

Alfred laughs taking a seat, "You don't want to hurt me? That's the first I've heard that one. You were looking forward to fighting though. That's kinda what the water would be for. It's a lot less harmful to land in, you know?"

Ivan huffs and takes the bottle of vodka, going through their drinks and pours some in a glass for Alfred with an array of juices. "Please, just—" Ivan slides him the drink and goes to sit down. "I don't want to talk about it." He takes the bottle and takes a few shots strait from it and leans onto his hand.

"Rrrroossia…?"

The Russian glares at the shorter man and lifts an eyebrow. "Don't try being sentimental. You already have an upper hand."

"Hey, I'm not trying to get you while your down. I just want to know what's wrong."

Ivan instinctively reaches up to his scarf and sighs, becoming just a bit less defensive as the alcohol hits. "Sip your drink, little American."

"You know you can call me Alfred, right?" he wasn't really in the mood to drink right now, but maybe it would get Ivan to feel more comfortable. He sips at the drink and flinches away. "Oh, that's stronger than I expected."

Ivan snickers. "I guess it wouldn't be beneficial for me to open up just a bit and close the door again. It's difficult when you've done it times before and end up regretting it."

Alfred puts the mostly full drink down. "That can't be easy."

"It's—" Ivan shrugs. Alfred watches the way his hair frames his face when he leans forward, and way his lips slip into a soft frown. It looked incredibly natural for his eyes to be fixated on something completely random as his thoughts process. His purple eyes shift from one point of interest to another. It's almost like he could see the way his mind was moving. "Certain things become more difficult to trust when it has been broken too many times. No matter how much time passes. I envy your youth."

"Yeah?" Alfred sucks in a breath and chuckles faintly. "Sometimes I wish I had more experience. Then I could know what happens next."

Ivan smirks in amusement. "You'll never know what happens next."

"I might." Alfred looks to the other and watches the way his eyes shift to him, trying to look for something. The American grins and takes a couple of huge gulps from his drink and climbs up into the other's lap, straddling his legs and looking to him. "I need you to open up to me first, big guy."

Ivan makes a bit of a face, perplexed. "Are you fucking with me right now?"

Alfred's expression drops and he shakes his head. "No, I—you like me, right?"

Ivan manages a chuckle. "That is not the issue."

"It's not?"

"Look, I know you like attention. I'm not looking to simply give you what you want and be another passage in a history book."

Alfred looks confused, and at the mention of history books he looks to the man's nose. It was pretty big, huh? The bridge of it went outward at just the right curve. A few thoughts of how well it would fit into the bridge of his own passed before his eyes shifted to his scarf. "I think I like you too."

At that, Ivan begins to laugh. "I figured as much." Alfred looks back to him confused and feels his heart rush in his chest when the taller man leans in pressing his nose into his own in a way that felt entirely too natural.

"You… what? I don't understand, then what's the problem?"

"That doesn't mean we should be together, Alfred. Attraction means close to nothing."

"But—Why not? I mean, I don't know maybe we can just not expect to be the last relationship we'll ever have, but we work well together. You make me smile, like really smile, and you don't have to pretend your not all big and scary because well, I don't care. You make bad jokes and I make bad jokes and even when stuff is lost in translation you don't mind. You're not afraid to be yourself, and… neither am I. You've seen the worst of me, you've seen it for what it is, and I the same for you, and we're still here. I don't know… maybe that means something? Maybe we can even out the extremist qualities we both have? Or maybe we'll just explode trying but—I want to try." The American fumbles over his last few sentences after speaking quickly. Just let the alcohol carry you… He shifts his eyes to Ivan and searches for something. What: he didn't really know.

Yet the expression he saw in Ivan's eyes was new to him. They were searching back. "I suppose, we could... try."

"Hey… uh. Did you know that…"

"What?"

"I'm a total slut for polar bear kisses?"

Ivan starts to chuckle. "I don't know what that means."

Alfred rubs his nose against the other's before he doesn't have the nerve and Ivan starts to flush. The American starts to grin nice and big and wraps his arms around the other's neck over the scarf. "I don't think you understand how much I use to stare at this honker of yours wishing I could do this." He roughly rubs his nose around the other's and smooshes them side to side.

"So that's why you use to stare…"

Alfred leans back looking at the other and with a humored chuckle. "Dude, I… I used to think of a lot of things."

"Like what?" Ivan slips his hands past Al's waist and holds them behind his back.

"Uh." He glances away and flushes. "Like, remember when we use to fight in the snow and I would get so cold I'd shiver really bad? I sometimes, uhm, kinda hoped you take me inside to the fire and uhm… warm me up?"

"Well, if we're sharing stories. I suppose I should admit to enjoying our spying games a bit too much those decades ago."

"Dude, what did you see?" Ivan just chuckles. "Dude! What did. you see!" the man laughs some more and Alfred blushes furiously starting to shake them in the chair. " _Ivan_!"


	10. Chapter 10

Ivan grabs Alfred to stop him from shaking the chair so much so they don't fall backwards. "Do you really want to pay for a broken chair?"

"Well I guess not." Alfred smirks looking to the other being held into him. It was weird. Being so close should be nerve racking. Yet it was comfortable. "If you really don't want to go swimming though, we should figure out what else to do."

Ivan looks to the other, contemplating. "I suppose you have gotten me drunk enough…"

"You're hardly buzzed?"

Ivan shakes his head with a smirk. "I try to give you leverage and you push it back. Take off my scarf, before I change my mind." Alfred takes a moment to comprehend the weight of what he was told. He reaches for the scarf and gently tugs at it, watching Ivan's eyes making sure it was still okay as it begins to fall forward into their laps. The way it seemed to begin to pull itself away made Alfred's skin crawl.

When a large, deep scar on Ivan's neck is made visible he almost gasps. "I'm sorry." Was all he could say, unable to look away. "Are there any others?"

"All over my body. They are not as deep."

The American's hands tenderly graze along the discolored skin and feels it's odd texture, pondering just how it could get there. "Some things just never heal?" Ivan nods closing his eyes, trying not to flinch away from his touch and tilts his head back enough to expose most of his neck. Al leans in gently pressing his lips to the scar and feels an abrupt panicked hand on his back. "I won't hurt you."

"It is odd to feel the air touch it let alone…"

"I know." He pulls away from Ivan's neck and runs his hand over it gently. Alfred leans in just a little and stops, glancing back up to meet Ivan's eyes. Ivan chuckles and leans in the rest of the way to kiss the other. Their lips melt together and they pull each other closer feeling a sort of release. There's a strength behind the force of their lips met with a gentle affection. Their lips part and meet again allowing them to inch their bodies closer as Ivan's hand reaches up into wheat colored strands. Alfred pulls away as his glasses get knocked into and softly, nervously chuckles. He flushes and begins to put them aside before Ivan's hand grabs his wrist.

"Porheps we should go swimming."

Alfred snickers and presses his nose into the Russians challenging him. "You want to go swimming now? Really?"

"Da."

"Alright man."

Alfred slips off the other's lap and goes to get changed, Ivan doing the same. Alfred, of course, pulls out the sunscreen. Ivan makes a face at the bottles. "I told you I do not need that."

"Yes, you do." Alfred opens the bottle and pours a glob of it into his hand and splats it onto the pale man's chest before he has anything further to say about it. "I gotta say, I like seeing you covered in white stuff."

Ivan scrunches up his nose at that comment. "It is you that will be covered."

"Mmm, not from here." Alfred grins at him while he smears the sunscreen all over his chest, noting the scars, and although not saying anything of them, being careful. He starts rubbing it into his exposed flesh and grins at the ability to take a look at the man half naked up close. There's a red tone that rises under Ivan's glare. The American giggles at the threat and continues to rub the sunscreen to his shoulder, up and down his neck with care. He smirks at the other, and then moves onto his back. "You'll thank me later. You might just burn anyway, pasty."

Ivan plucks the bottle from him and puts some into his hand, as Alfred slips down to get Ivan's legs he looks up to get the sunscreen tossed into his face. Ivan begins to laugh at his expression of shock before he stands up to take his glasses off. He laughs even harder after he comments, "Okay. Rude." He goes and cleans his glasses and keeps them aside. "Now I have to wear it too; that's so unfair. I was hoping to get a tan."

"It seems fair to me." Ivan seemed rather proud of himself. "I'll help you get your back."

Alfred groans and turns around letting him get his back for him. "Fine." He waits for the other to finish then gasps at feeling his stomach get grabbed from behind.

"It's softer than I expected." Ivan chuckles and pulls his hand away handing Alfred the bottle. Alfred didn't know what to say. He was toned underneath a layer of chub that kept him soft, although it wasn't as thick a layer as the Russian. It was just enough to slightly spill over the side of his swim trunks, unnoticeable when he wore a shirt.

"You're one to talk." Alfred grabs Ivan stomach with both hands and snickers at him, squeezing at the sides. There was just enough to make a soft pillow out of. "Two can play at that game." Although Alfred didn't see the difference Ivan seems to take great offense to that.

"Let go of me."

Alfred scoffs and stands up leaning into the other. "Why? You did it to me. It's the same thing."

"It is not." Ivan leans back into the other.

"Why not?" They both push into each other's foreheads aggressively, Alfred getting onto his toes so they're level. "I like your body, so don't bother pulling that bullshit with me."

Ivan makes a face, "What?"

"I like it!"

Ivan leans away, unsure to believe that. "You stared at my nose and stomach not out of disgust, but because you like them?"

"Is that really so hard to believe?"

Ivan stares for a long moment. "… … … it would explain your obsession with my coat." He steadily smirks as Alfred opens his mouth to defend himself, but ends up getting dragged out to the beach. "You wanted to swim, we swim."

The ocean's water this time of year is often much colder than it would be in a few months time. Alfred knew this, and upon being dragged closer and closer, he crawls up the Russian and clings to the top of his torso. "Just throw me in. See how far you can throw me, but avoid the sand bar." Ivan keeps walking out until his shins are in and looks to him with a look of disinterest. He grabs the American and holds him out away from himself, smirking as he hangs like a drying shirt. Alfred frowns in an exaggerated way and just hangs there. He drops him. Al looks up to the other and grabs his ankle yanking, making him fall into the water with him.

Ivan sits there and looks to Alfred. "So, this is swimming?" He slaps his arms down into the water.

"No, you ass." Alfred crawls out to deeper water until he can start walking through it. Ivan fallows. The waves are pitiful and only get bigger out by the sandbar.

"So… This is swimming?"

Alfred smirks and splashes him. "Knock it off. I like it." Although the water was rather cold. Alfred reframed from shivering. Ivan enjoyed the relief from the heat. "I wish it were hotter."

"What is wrong with you?"

Alfred swims away and slips back into shore. Ivan stands and leers at the shore, letting the mild waves knock into him. When the American returns he throws an inflated tube under himself and floats about. "There. Perfect. Then you just lay and relax."

"Can't you do that inside?"

"Well, but its not like, out in the water."

Ivan yanks the innertube away form him and lays back into it. "I'm picking the next vacation spot."

Alfred pops out of the water and contorts his face. "You'll pick some abandoned shed out in the middle of Serbia."

"So? Better than this."

They spend the better part of two hours fighting over the innertube and who gets to lay on it. They laugh, yell, choke on salt water, and each get tossed into the deeper water several times. Alfred gets to lay on the innertube on his tummy for a moment and relax while Ivan tries to cough up salt water and pushes his damp hair out of his face. Alfred closes his eyes with a satisfied sigh and then lifts his head. "Wait. What's that noise?" He glances over and Ivan fallows his eyes.

"There's people over there." Ivan scrunches up his face.

"Oh shit." Alfred looks to the shore and sees they've drifted rather far from the house. "Fuck. Hey, Ivan."

Ivan's attention snaps to Alfred then softens his expression when he instantly recalls their recent interaction. "Mm?"

"You should drag me back in that direction away from the people."

"I am not your lacky." Regardless, the Russian grabs the innertube and trudges through the water back in the direction of the house. "I suppose this was sort of fun."

"I knew you'd like it if you gave it a chance." Once they make it close to shore and Alfred is close to dry, basking in the sunshine to warm up, Ivan flips the innertube one last time and pulls it up over his shoulder.

Alfred hops up quickly and gasps from the cold shocking his system. "I was all warmed up!"

"I know." Ivan snickers walking away, tossing the innertube onto the porch and stares at it for a minute. "You forgot towels."

Alfred walks up soaking from head to toe and looks to Ivan. "Well let's see, you dragged me out to the water, and you're the one that's dry from the waist up. You'll have to grab some from the bathroom."

The Russian shrugs and walks inside and goes to grab them each a towel, returning with one around his waist and tosses one to Alfred. The one still dripping trots up inside and closes the door, then shivers. "Holy fuckin' shit, dude. What did you do to the thermostat?"

Ivan chuckles. "It is hot out. Isn't that what you use AC for?"

"Okay, fine, you can keep it cold. What do you want to do for dinner?"

"I can make something if you pick a movie."

The two take turns taking showers to wash the salt water and the sand away. Alfred goes to dig through whatever films are at the base of the television, wondering what the people are into that he's renting this place from. Ivan goes into the kitchen and plays some music to make dinner to, something rather quite and tasteful. Alfred collects a movie. One with an American Hero and a Russian Villain just to see how much Ivan complains. He puts the videos aside on the coffee table and sneaks into the kitchen.

Ivan's putting something into the oven humming along to a song that's going too fast for Alfred to understand—with the exception of a few words that sounded really weird out of context. He lingers watching the Russian begin to move to the music and leans over the countertop of the "bar" with a smirk.

When Ivan glances over to see Alfred, he stops moving and stands stiffly. "You should wear a bell."

"I get told that a lot." Alfred slips into the kitchen and looks to the oven. "Are you done in here?"

"Mostly."

They awkwardly try to shuffle past each other, and stop in place, unsure where to move to. "Uh." Alfred shifts to one side as Ivan does, and they seem perpetually stuck. Shifting here and there, not knowing how close it's okay to get. Alfred finally backs away and goes to the couch to set up the movie leaving Ivan behind to fumble with his own hands while no one's not looking.

The American puts up the beginning credits to have something to listen to while he waits on the couch. He holds his knee, wearing his Captain America t-shirt and thin baggy blue pajama pants. He rubs his thumbs together and looks down as they fiddle. He bites his lip and feels his face heat up feeling weird. Maybe he shouldn't have crawled up on his lap earlier? Maybe this was too fast for someone that's been hurt before. Maybe it was too fast for himself?

Ivan sits in the kitchen looking to the oven watching the clock. He was self-conscious about quite a few things, but has too much pride to admit it. Part of him was afraid of getting laughed at and being pushed away. He glances to bottle of vodka on the counter with his precious scarf next to it. It was hard not to wrap back up in it to feel better. Except he was big bad Russia, right? Being afraid is just another thing to get laughed at. He sighs and pulls something out of the oven and lets it cool before sitting down on the couch with Alfred.

As their new dynamic hasn't had time to settle, the boundaries undefined, and the excitement of confessing had settled, something else made both of their pulses bounce. Something in the air felt incredibly tense, and they could both feel it. Alfred presses start and smiles to Ivan. "You can pick the next one if you want." Ivan nods and looks to Alfred. It was a fake smile, he could tell. Ivan forces one back.

"Sure."

As the movie starts they sit in silence waiting for the plot to start to make any sense. At some point it was another obvious hero movie. With another Russian villain. Ivan rolls his eyes and complains in his usual tone, "Always. Why do you make the Russians the bad guys?"

Alfred chuckles letting some of the tension melt away. "Dude, what are you complaining about? Girls always love the villains."

"Huh?"

"You didn't know that? Try looking at social media some time."

Ivan sits in the corner and stretches out, his arm across the top of the couch, Alfred sitting on the other side with his face contently tucked into his knees. He shifts his eyes to Ivan seeing his body half facing him, and his face rather flat and red. Al wasn't quite sure what that meant, but something about it felt like he should try to get closer. He just didn't know if he should. As he shifts and inches closer and closer to the Russian he feels a hand rest on his shoulder and gets pressed into the other's chest.

It was… weird. Alfred may have been single for some time, but he was use to being the bigger spoon. Still. It was nice. Plus, he was like a personal space heater. He snuggles into him a little and lets out a soft content hum slipping his hands past the other to hold onto him and pull himself closer. Ivan flushes and keeps Alfred shoved into him so he can't see.

What movie was playing again? Alfred looks to the screen watching a monologue he could care less about. He freezes feeling Ivan's lips on his head and a squeeze at his shoulder before Ivan pulls away and slips off the couch. Alfred sits up and watches the other.

Ivan goes and puts the piroshki on a large plate and sits back down in his spot, Alfred keeping his arms open to make it easier for him to slip in. He sees what he made and snickers, "I raved about how delicious those things are once, forever ago, and you still make them every time you get the chance."

"I like it when you indulge in things from my country."

They watch the movie, cuddled up, eating dinner as it gets later in the day. When the plate gets set down on the coffee table they get the chance to relax and ease into one another without any strain. Part of it helps them realize just how much energy it takes up to constantly throw each other around as their muscles get to relax. By the time the movie was over they were each nearly asleep. As the credits blare Ivan begins to shift and Alfred pops up at the movement. "Huh?"

"Did you fall asleep?"

Alfred wipes some drool off his lip with his knuckle and stretches. "No way, man."

Ivan pulls up the remote and looks for some movies on demand. He huffs only coming across the English dub, finding the Russian version is region locked, but clicks the movie any way. "I can pay you back for this one."

Alfred squints at the screen and readjusts his glasses. "What's this?"

"It's funny."

"… this looks… like a horror movie." Alfred starts to gleam. "Oh, I love scary movies!"

Ivan chuckles and gets up turning all the lights off as the movie begins to start leaving Al alone for a minute before returning. He sits down and Alfred already feels tense and clings to him. He looks to the American and smiles. "What is it?"

"N-nothing. I'm not afraid of anything. Certainly not ghosts."

"Do not be afraid, Alfred. It is not a ghost."

"Oh, thank God."

"It is a demon."

"Ivan!" Alfred nearly whimpers and clings to the other. It wasn't even the scary part yet.

The larger man watches the strongest country in the world cling to him and ponders just how strong he really is. Why was he so content showing him how afraid he was? Part of it may have been exaggerated as an excuse to be close, but even that Ivan couldn't be mad at. He's always acted like this over horrors. Anyway, at least he was awake now.

Al's heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. Ghosts have always messed him up. There's nothing you can do about them. No beating them up, or even being able to touch them, and they can do whatever they want to you. There's no control.

"It is not real." Ivan scooches to lay down and lets Alfred lay down on top of him. The two of them nearly couldn't fit on the couch together and their limbs hung off the side, but it was worth the mild discomforts. The American huffs and leans into his chest. Having his steady heart beat made it easier to calm down. He only jumped at the jump scares and since Ivan laughed every time he did, it was a reminder that it was just a movie.

While one of the more boring scenes plays Alfred jabs his finger into Ivan's chest. "So what are you afraid of?" he shifts himself to look at the other.

"Certainly not ghosts." Ivan glances down at the other, and after seeing that the answer provided was not enough he frowns a bit. "I'm afraid of dying alone. Not without a partner. That isn't—I don't want to be hated and feared. I don't want my sisters to be afraid. I want my power and size to not be used as a tool to do damage. I have much more to be proud of."

Alfred nods and glances down tracing his finger tips around in circles. "I can kinda understand that… only I don't think Matty and Arty will ever fear me. They might just disown me. I think- I hope they know I wouldn't hurt them."

Ivan shrugs a bit. "You never know…"

Alfred swallows and nods and thinks for a moment. "Were you ever afraid of me?"

Ivan tries to hold in his laugh but it shakes his ribs while he covers his mouth. "Nyet. I don't fear much of anything after what I've been through."

"I think all I was ever scared of was becoming—"

They sync, "Just like you."

Ivan smiles. "Funny how things change yet stay the same, isn't it?"

"I don't know if I would call it funny. I… 've been in a weird funk lately. I think it's over, but I'm not entirely sure."

"I noticed…" Ivan rubs his back and leans back into his own arm, laying his head onto his hand. "I've had a few of those… what do you call them?"

"Moods?"

"Hm. Moods. Da. I've felt that. I don't like watching you go through it."

"Germany was helping me a lot. He gave me some advise. It's weird but I think it works. It's just hard to find people to trust or I guess be comfortable with." Alfred lays his head flat on Ivan's chest looking up at him, both completely ignoring the movie.

"What do you mean?"

"He told me—well I'm paraphrasing, but—I should stop fake being happy, and let out all my bad thoughts, and be honest with myself, and then work to make myself better. He said I should work with the world instead of at it, I think?"

"That's not bad advice." Ivan chuckles, "Except my thoughts are much too bad to say out loud. I—well I am fucked up."

"I didn't say the worst of what I've felt out loud either…"

"I have made the mistake a few times."

Alfred looks to Ivan and wonders just what he felt was too fucked up to ever share. Maybe they really were a good match. "The mistake of saying something bad out loud or the mistake of sharing it with the wrong person?"

"Hm…"

The American lays there for a long moment and mindlessly rubs the other's shoulder and gently grazes along his neck, feeling the unevenness of his scar. Alfred sucks his teeth and finally blurts out quickly and awkwardly, "I use to like torturing people."

Ivan starts to laugh. Not because he thought it was funny, but because he didn't know what to say. He knew he heard him right. He knew he understood the English. It was just… something people don't say. He lets his laughter subside, knowing it was the result of discomfort Alfred looks away. Ivan speaks up after the silence starts to burrow into his ears. "Me too."

"I-I'm not saying I want to again or that it's good—"

"Nyet. I know. You are saying you are fucked up enough, _wrong_ enough to enjoy the power of it. For that you feel guilty."

They sit in silence. A dull, comfortable, understanding silence. There was something they both understood, and although everyone is 'wrong' in their own way, they were wrong in the same way. For that, they were grateful.

The screams of the main cast in the movie consumed the room. Alfred didn't even flinch. He laid on the Russian man, entirely too focused on the fact that although he wanted to say a million things, it was felt that they would all be understood in an instant. There wasn't any need to rush them all out. As he shifts his eyes to watch Ivan, he noticed that the other didn't seem to feel as much relief.

Alfred pushes himself up over Ivan and looks down to him, chuckling nervously as his glasses slip and Ivan reaches up and puts them to the side for him. "Ivan. You can open up to me too."

Ivan looks to the American looming over him and manages a soft, barely there, honest smile. He seemed to want to speak, but the words didn't want to come out. It took up moments, and the patience that the American usually didn't exhibit was still present on his face, with a gentle eagerness to hear what the man under him had to say. "There is something I am ashamed to even be ashamed of, if that makes any sense to you." Alfred runs his fingers gently along Ivan's neck and nods softly.

"Yes?"


	11. Chapter 11

**This chapter was difficult, a bit because I get second hand embarrassment haha.**

There's smut, so... be careful. This is where that M comes into play. I understand not being comfortable with it so I'm warning. If your a pervert like me don't worry, there will be more later, I'm sure. I don't know how much longer I'm going to continue this story for, but I'm not going to stop until there's an ending that feels satisfying to me. It could have been a slower burn, but there are other things I wanted to introduce about their relationships that include sex, so here we are. :)

I want to start writing a story with a deeper plot now that I'm comfortable writing again. I'll probably start posting that in a few days. Since I'm moving to Germany, this one will be from his perspective. (An American inside Germany AHURHUR... I'm sorry...) This story will be well researched I assure you. I admit this one is a bit lazy...

 **Aside from that thank you all so much for your lovely comments or simply for reading! It is certainly inspiring me to continue writing fanfictions for my fellow nerdlings.**

* * *

Ivan glances away, feeling his cheeks heat up. It was really such a curse to have fair skin in situations like this. The slight irritation from the sun and salt water didn't help. He sighs softly, the pressure to say what was on his mind making it harder. Alfred's lips curl at their edges and he leans in giving him a soft peck on the lips. "Relax, big guy. You don't have to tell me now." Ivan manages a smile. He wanted his scarf. He wanted to hide behind it, and tuck himself into it, much like Alfred liked to tuck into the fluff of his own jacket when he wore it. Watching his pale cheeks light up was rather cute, and it was fun to watch him get so flustered. "I've never seen you get like this Ivan."

Ivan just lifts his shirt to cover his face with it, then closes his eyes in frustration when the bottom of his shirt ends up exposing some of his tummy. This was so uncomfortable. Alfred slips his finger into the collar of his shirt and hooks it, gently tugging at the fabric. "C'mon, let me see your cute face."

"Alfred, please—" The American started to chuckle, still getting use to hearing his name in that accent, and slips his shirt up from the bottom instead. Ivan closes his eyes tighter, "Alfred—"

"You can keep covering your face if it helps." Al lifts his shirt up more so that his entire chest is bare and starts leaving little tender pecks across his skin. His muscles felt incredibly tense under his lips, and just how much bulk and muscle that was under that layer of softness was apparent. "Relax."

Ivan pulls the shirt down from his face and sighs softly, his cheeks starting to cool if only a little. Al lurches at the opportunity and pushes the fabric of the shirt up until its slipped off and falls to the floor. Ivan looks a bit panicked, in an almost aggressive way. Alfred wiggles up his body and kisses his cheek, covering him with his own torso. "Hey. relax. Just let me see you. I like it, remember? I like you."

Ivan makes a face. It was obvious he wasn't used to being submissive in any way. He looks to Alfred, and the charming gaze in his eyes that was filled with nothing but admiration made his throat feel like it was closing up. He decides to take the initiative to kiss him. Like the last kiss it started very tender, then slipped into something firmer, almost needy. Al slips his arms under Ivan's head as his arms run up the American's back.

They pulled each other closer, the moan that gently vibrated from Al's lips made Ivan melt. They began to fumble. The kissing wasn't nearly as rehearsed as their fighting was, but the newness of it made it exciting. They got lost in each other's lips and start to learn each other's signatures, how the other paced themselves, how soft or firm to kiss at any given moment, and at some point, something clicked and it felt less like fumbling.

As they got to know each other Ivan grazes his tongue along the darker man's bottom lip. Alfred allows his tongue to meet the others, and they start the gentle process all over again. They try a few simple tricks they each learned from past lovers, testing their tastes. Alfred tries nibbling at Ivan's bottom lip and when Ivan responds with a chuckle and by tugging gently at his bottom lip with his teeth they each knew that was something they each would enjoy. Some other little tricks were responded too a little less enthusiastically, and soft giggles covered the embarrassment that came with it.

Al couldn't help but rub his nose along and against the other's again and again. Ivan smirks and started to rub back, even if it wasn't as roughly as Alfred did. They look to each other both grinning like dorks without a word. Then they started to laugh.

It was nerve racking, and all at the same time incredibly comforting to be so close.

Ivan takes the opportunity to slip Alfred's shirt off him. It was only fair, after all. His tan skin rippled gently from the cold and Al lays down along Ivan to steal his warmth. "Hey!"

"Hey." Ivan responded and chuckles leaning in to kiss him again. The credits for the movie began to play and the music was entirely too loud and distracting. Alfred pulls away and tries to reach for the remote, slipping and nearly tossing them both off the couch.

"Sorry." He manages to grab it and turns the tv off, both helping each other back onto the couch. The dark made them feel like nothing else existed. Neither of them knew just how far the other wanted to go, so they remained cautious. The American slips his body back down along the other's and kisses along the side of his neck. Ivan bites his lip, and at the response Al kisses along his throat. The hand at his back grabbing his love handle urged him to kiss back down the other's neck and ever so gently bites into him. Ivan hums a moan he couldn't hold in. Alfred chuckles and kisses down his neck some more claiming a scar-less patch of skin to mark.

Ivan kisses his neck in return and bites down into the fleshy part of the American's inner shoulder. They both use one another to mask their gentle moans into. "Fuck." Al pulls away and looms over the other, "someone has a sensitive neck."

Ivan snickers and pushes Alfred into him by the back of his back, rubbing the blue-eyed man's half hard cock along the area right above his own and pushes himself toward between his legs. "Someone is excited."

Al bites his lip and flushes, "you caught me." He pushes himself into the other, the cocks rubbing past each other with layers of fabric between them. Al leans in and kisses the other, both of them gently thrusting and moaning, their hearts starting to race and breath becoming heavier.

Alfred lifts himself and slips down Ivan's body. The Russian flinches softly feeling a kiss graze down his stomach. Al sits on the man's knees and starts to tug at his pants, slipping them down to with a bit of a struggle. "Wait—"

Alfred stops and looks up to him with his hands still at his waist band. "What is it?" he was still panting a bit and was obviously excited to see what was hiding under the pants. It was hard to see Ivan's expression in the dark, not to mention without his glasses. "Are you not as big as everyone says or something?" he could see why that might be something worth hiding, but he didn't care. After a heavy silence that allowed them each to feel their own pulses, Alfred starts to gently tug at his pants again. When he isn't told to stop he pulls his pants down to his knees. He leans in and presses his tongue to the other's cock and Ivan bites down into his lip.

"I just know most Americans find being uncut to be… dissatisfying…" Alfred starts to laugh and Ivan sinks into himself. His heart skips a beat feeling as though his fears came true.

"Dude, I don't care. I'm the weird one. Besides…" Alfred exhales a hot breath onto his cock and licks his palm, grasping his length and slowly strokes it, with an immediate physical response from the Russian. "That makes you more sensitive, right?"

Ivan didn't respond. He was too busy trying not to make a sound. Al licks his lips and slips them over his cock, licking and slicking him up before starting to slide his lips over him more and more. He smiles over his cock and moans over it, feeling it get bigger. He slips down and gently tries to coax his cock into to back of his throat, steadily pushing his entire cock into his mouth.

Ivan makes a deep shallow moan and Al giggles, causing him to choke softly. He pulls away and sucks in his drool and chuckles, "Well, you are as big as they say…"

"Are you going to choke on it some more?" Ivan chuckles and starts to swear in his native tongue feeling his mouth go back over him. Alfred slips him back in as much as he can and coughs a few more times. He didn't really have too much experience with this skill… The sensation of his throat closing up was still enough to make Ivan shutter, and really it was hot to hear him choke on it…

The American slips away and takes a breath, "How's it feel to have your cock between the teeth of the strongest country in the world?" The sensation of just how rock hard he became was the best kind of reaction to that question as he presses his tongue against the base. He keeps going, setting in, getting into a position to work his mouth over the other with the assistance of his hand at his base and one at his balls. Watching him squirm under his mouth had to be the best part.

Ivan groans and runs his fingers through Alfred's hair and pushes him away gently as his cock throbs. "You are going to have to slow down."

Alfred chuckles and crawls up the other and wipes his mouth. "Really now?" Ivan pulls him down and kisses him and reaches up groping the American through his pajamas. Ivan chuckles into his lips and grasps him.

"You really enjoyed yourself, didn't you?" Ivan kicks off his pants the rest of the way and picks him up. walking the American to the master bed room and tosses him on the bed, watching him giggle while he softly bounces up and then settles into the soft blanket before pushing it out of the way.

"Am I going to get to enjoy myself some more?"

"I think so." Ivan crawls onto the bed and pulls Alfred's pants off, tossing them aside. Now it was Alfred turn to blush and glance away. He chuckles nervously. Ivan settles into the bed and lays himself between Alfred's legs and smirks up at him. "Hm?"

Alfred swallows and bites his lip blushing furiously, his cock twitching just thinking about what's about to happen. He covers his mouth with his wrist feeling his mouth go over his cock. The sensation of his lip, and tongue and hot breath send a shiver down his spine. He moans into his wrist feeling him work over his cock, starting slow and teasingly, eventually working his way fast. "Hnnng."

"What was that?" The larger man slips down over the rest of his shaft and pushes his cock into his throat. The American moans into his arm again and nearly whimpers when Ivan begins to swallow. It seems he has much more practice. Al grabs the locks of silver hair and grips them, trying not to be rough, but the sensation was hard to bare when he wouldn't. stop. Along with the swallowing he'd keep bobbing and licking.

"Ivan, stop! Fuck! I'm gonna cum, stop haaah." Al bites into his arm and bucks into the other's mouth with a whimper, cumming hard down his throat. He shivers as he sighs and huffs looking up at the ceiling. " _Holy shit_." Ivan chuckles and easily swallows whatever was at the back of his throat and licks him. Alfred's body convulses, "Haah, I'm really sensitive right now."

"You're still hard?"

Alfred sits up and tries to calm his panting. "I have really fast recovery, and." He pants, "you turn me on like really really bad."

Ivan snickers and puts him back into his mouth. Alfred tilts his head and moans biting his lip, his entire body shivering, "Ivan, s-stop, I can't handle it." He pulls away from his cock and crawls over him, settling down as Alfred slips his arms over him to hook around his neck and lays back down.

They kiss, soft and tender, hot and passionate. They hold onto one another, rolling around, gently thrusting with little moans and soft panting. Eventually the Russian ends up being the one laying down. He looks up to see Alfred making an unsure face. "What is it?" Alfred bites his lip.

"I didn't bring lube… and you're so big, there's no way—"

Ivan chuckles and pulls him into his arms, and while he pats his hair reaches over to grab a little bottle out of the night stand he but there when they arrived. "You will learn how to prepare one day."

…

The shower was delightful. In the afterglow, there was nothing but smiles and steam as they washed each other off and slipped into one another's arms, giggling and kissing. The water would slip between their lips and over their noses as they kissed, only making them chuckle more. It had been awhile since either of them had indulged in having a partner.

"This is entirely too perfect." Alfred murmurs and slips away running his hand through his hair slicking it back out of his face. "I can't even see you all that well, and—" the American reaches his hands out and runs them up Ivan's chest and grins slipping them over his shoulders. "That's not the only reason I keep making sure you're real."

Ivan chuckles and pulls him in closer, "You should perhaps keep your expectations low, so I do not fall short of them."

Alfred grins and shakes his head and presses his nose into the other's, letting the water run over them. "I don't care if you're not perfect. I like that you show me all your worst. I think that's what makes this nice." Al slips his hand tenderly over the other's scar and looks to him, but closes his eyes being blinded by the water and chuckles. "I think I'm learning to like all the missteps."

Ivan's lips curl into a soft smile and he leans in to kiss him caressing his cheek. "It's about time, Alfred." He grins wider and pulls him close pressing them back together. "There's a reason I waited until I did to… let you know."

Alfred manages to open an eye and leans into his hand. "I wasn't ready when you said that. How did you know I liked you back?"

Ivan scrunches his nose and grins pressing their foreheads together. "I wasn't sure you still did, but I did come across your home one night, while I was spying on you, keeping a close eye on you, making sure you weren't destroying yourself. The Cold War, Alfred, during our spying games, I heard you through your window cursing my name."

Alfred flushes and shifts his eyes away knowing exactly what he was talking about. He feels his heart sink. "That doesn't happen to be the time that I—?"

"That you were masturbating while thinking of me?"

Alfred tucks his face into the other's chest and makes a noise comparable to a dying animal. "Oh my God…!"

Ivan chuckles and leans in close to his ear, "Was I keeping you warm?"

Alfred shivers a bit at his words and leans into him. "Well, you can now." He chuckles nervously and leans in to kiss his neck.

"Don't do that, we are cleaning up. Remember?"

Alfred whimpers a bit and kisses the other some more and presses him into the cold tiles. He chuckles into his lips and grabs him by his hips and presses into him more, the Russian responding with a hushed moan. The American looks up to the other and kisses at his neck more. "You only got to cum once…" When he presses into him more he can feel him getting harder and looks to his rosy cheeks and smirks. Ivan shifts his eyes to the other with pleading eyes and bites his lip. Alfred smirks, "I really like that face you make."

He slips down the other's body and gets down to his knees, looking up to Ivan and opens up his mouth. His tongue grazes the tip of his cock as he grips his hips harder and slips his mouth over his cock as painfully slow as he can manage. Ivan tilts his head back and moans into his own bottom lip before looking down to the other. "You really like sucking my cock, don't you?"

Alfred shifts his eyes up to him and nods while he bobs his head. Ivan struggles to stay still and keep his hands to himself while the American gets more comfortable sucking his cock. When he starts to get really into it Ivan reaches down and grazes his hand through his hair tenderly. Alfred pulls the other's cock out of his mouth and lets out a hot breath and sucks more air in. "I want you to pull my hair and fuck my mouth…"

Ivan's eyes widen and tightens his grip on the other's hair. When his response is to make a submissive face of pleasure his cock twitches. "You're such a cum slut…" Al blushes and opens up his mouth begging for his mouth to be filled and reaches down to stroke his own cock.

Ivan gently pushes himself into his mouth and moans out a long cuss. "You just wanted to touch yourself?" He smirks down at him and starts to fuck his mouth a little harder. The American only responding by slightly bobbing and moaning over his cock, stroking himself harder. "Fuck."

"Where do you want me to cum?" Ivan pulls Alfred away from his cock and as he gasps for a breath he says, "My face. You can cum on my face." Ivan sticks his cock back into the other's mouth, his knees starting to shake and nearly buckle, so he presses himself into the wall harder. Alfred was obviously getting closer, and watching him get off to sucking his cock was incredible.

Alfred whimpers and starts shaking, Ivan slips his cock into the back of Alfred's throat and gasps out a hard moan while he gently chokes and begins to desperately moan and whimper over his cock, cumming with his cock deep in his throat. Ivan holds him over his cock and pants trying not to cum until the other finished and pulled himself out, accidently leaving some cum behind in his throat and he pulls away and finishes on his face. "Why are you so fucking hot?"

Alfred grins getting coated and licks as much of the cum around his lips as he can. "I love being able to do that to you." He ducks his face into the water and washes it back off. He swallows feeling his throat was sore and smiles to Ivan sheepishly, who then kisses him.

"Was that too hard?"

Alfred bites his lip and shifts his big blue eyes to him. "I kinda like the way it hurts."

"Of course, you do." he chuckles.

After slipping out of the shower and drying off they put some fresh pajamas back on. The American was eager to cuddle, but Ivan clicks the lights on and exits the bathroom out to the hallway and starts some coffee. Alfred fallows him and stands behind the counter by the chair. "What are you making that stuff for?"

"It is only 11?"

"It's still way too late for coffee."

Ivan shrugs and lets it brew. "Could you please hand me my scarf?"

Alfred walks over and grabs it for him and walks up to drape it over his neck for him and smiles. "You know, you can still wear that as much as you want."

Ivan sinks into it and furrows his brows upward. "I know that." He shifts his eyes away. "I am trying to expose myself. Perhaps then it can be more comfortable."

The coffee maker beeps and they each pour themselves a cup. Alfred glances to the sugar while he takes the first sip. He looks down into the cup, a rich warm and deep brown. He sighs some and looks back up to Ivan. "I think I should tell you something."

"What would that be?" Ivan pulls the cup away from his lips and while his eyes are locked onto Alfred he pours a bit of vodka into the coffee.

"I was hanging out with Germany for a few days before I came here with you. He gave me all that advice like I said, but we talked a lot and—"

"I already knew all of this."

"You did?"

"Germany and I have been on speaking terms for quite some time. He's been opening himself up a lot over the years."

"That doesn't explain—?"

"Who do you think he was texting while you two were in the café?"

Alfred looks down into his cup confused for a long moment before he looks to Ivan and opens his mouth to say something. _So he was texting both of them while they were sitting in that cafe?_ He stops short and looks back to the cup. "Italy."

The Russian makes a concerned expression and looks away, "Alfred, he's been trying to get over that they won't be a couple for a while now. Didn't you hear?"

"I've been a bit out of the loop." Alfred chuckles nervously and sips his coffee again. The bitterness was starting to settle into his throat. "I had no idea."

Ivan smiles to him and shakes his head. "I'll catch you up then. Italy is still waiting for someone that isn't coming back."

"Holy Roman Empire, right?"

"That's right."

"It's neat that they're still friends though."

"Not… exactly. Germany has been trying to get over him. It's hard to push away the first person to treat you like a human being."

Alfred taps his finger against the coffee cup and lets it start to feel like its burning his hand. "Yeah, I can't imagine…"

Ivan looks to Alfred and frowns a bit. "What is it?"

Alfred shimmies closer to the other and leans his head onto his shoulder with a soft huff. "There's no right answer is there? You have to be brave enough to open up and let people in, and then be strong enough to push them away if you need to, or tough enough to endure if they're the ones pushing you away."

Ivan presses his lips to his temple and leans his head onto the others. "That is, unless you find what you're looking for."

Alfred chuckles and snickers. "We've been together for a day."

"I've also been waiting for quite some time, and you can't tell me you weren't either."

The American bites his lip thinking of the revolution and how much it hurt Arthur, and for how long. He sees the way he sulks every year. "I wonder what it's like to get pushed away by someone really close to you."

"Well." Ivan sips the coffee. "It isn't easy. After your done… accepting it. You have to ask yourself why they felt the need to push you away." Alfred looks up to Ivan and smiles pressing his lips into his cheek. Ivan smiles a bit and continues, "I found that when you're afraid to lose someone, the actions you take to prevent from losing them are exactly what proves they were right to leave."

"So, if I ever leave?"

"I'd have to watch you go." Ivan looks to him. "I know you value your freedom, Alfred. You're not mine to keep no matter how nice it is to hear in the bedroom."

The American grins and leans up pressing his lips into the other's; they kiss sweetly tasting of coffee. "That might just be another reason to stay." They put their cups aside and hold each other close. Promises to tell each other floated through their minds. To promise that they'd never have to be alone. The promise of something lasting until one of their countries perishes. Yet they were both too wise for that. Ivan from experience, Alfred from watching the people he cares about.

The floaty feeling that consumes Alfred's chest makes him cover his mouth and he chuckles as his face heats up. "Erm."

Ivan smirks. "I know. I'm trying to hold it in too."

"It would _feel_ so right. I just don't know if it is."

"I'll wait as long as you need to hear it, so long as you mean it when you say it." They collect their cups and Ivan glances out the glass doors. "Shall we?" The two go outside and sit on the patio looking up at the stars. Alfred leans into the other and absorbs his heat grateful for the arm going over his shoulder and puts one over the other's as well. "The stars look different here."

Alfred nods and beams, giddily looking to the sky. "I love it. I remember laying on the grass and looking to the sky before England even found me. I remember gazing at them looking for answers. I remember making stories up about how they got there. Now I know what they are."

"Do you know what my favorite part about that is?"

Alfred looks to him, "Hm?" he smiles and looks to him searching for what he could mean. "What?"

Ivan smiles still looking to the sky. "That even though you could say they are not as magical, now that we know, I still look up at them and find the same feeling I did centuries ago. Porheps they are not legends immortalized. Porheps there is no magic or mystery anymore. For some reason, they calm me down. They give me hope."

Alfred lets a huge grin spread across his face. "I like being able to be anywhere in the world and get to look up at them. I like that everyone can feel that—that feeling of simply belonging just by looking up at them. I wanted to reach those stars, Ivan. I wanted to be able to just." He extends his hand out and pretend to grab one of the stars. "I wanted to be painted in stardust. I still want to reach them. I just… know better now. It would be a lot like Icarus, wouldn't it?"

Ivan pulls Alfred closer. "Is that why you settled for the moon?"

Alfred smiles a bit and looks to Ivan. "I didn't settle for the moon. I worked my ass off to get there out of spite. That and, I guess yeah. I wanted to be up among the stars."

"Well you don't belong there. You may be flaming, but you are not ball of plasma."

"Did you know a big enough solar flare could kill us all at any moment?"

Ivan just laughs. Alfred finishes his coffee and starts to get jittery from the caffeine. He puts the cup aside. "I won't be able to sleep for awhile…"

"Me either. Except not because of coffee."

Alfred pulls out his phone and flips through it for a little while. Ivan makes a face and looms over him. "What are you—Alfred, nyet, **no** —""

"Look at this meme, Ivan. Look at it! Rootin'-tootin'- Putin. How does that make you feel? Do you want to see all my Putin reaction pictures, Ivan? What about these ones." Alfred goes through an entire folder of memes and pictures saved under the title: _For Ivan_.

Ivan tries to be mad but he couldn't hold the face, so he was stuck between trying to pretend to be bad and holding back laughter. "It's funny until you're not allowed to have them anymore."

"I could send them to your phone—"

" **Nyet.** "

"How funny would it be if you sent them to him?"

Alfred chuckles while Ivan shoves him. They stand up and head inside, the American continuing to laugh and giggle while Ivan playfully glares at him with seething hatred that almost seems real.

They put the cups into the sink and turn the lights off heading to the bedroom. Ivan looks to Alfred. "I thought you had the other room."

Alfred blinks and looks to the other room and then back to Ivan, "but I thought?" he frowns beginning to give the other those puppy dog eyes.

Ivan grins and opens the door for the other. "It was joke."

The American slips into the room and jumps onto the bed only to have the Russian jump on next to him. They scooch around and awkwardly shuffle closer until they can melt into each other's arm and take comfort in their presence. They stay that way for a long time in an insomnia and caffeine induced haze.

Ivan glances to Alfred and notices he looks like he's thinking about something. He bumps his nose into Alfred's until he starts to smile. "What is it?"

Al looks to him and slips his hand into the other's and curls their fingers together. "I'm not sure." He smiles. "It's really nice to have you here." Ivan smiles in agreement. "It's just… I feel bad. Ludwig, I mean. He has a really hard time opening to people. He didn't open up to me much, but he really tried I think. What did he say to you?"

"That he was worried about you."

Alfred looks to their interlocked hands and swallows. "That's what he said, you said, about me."

"We were both concerned for your well being. Quite a few of us were."

"Is that because my mental health could destroy the whole world?"

Ivan frowns and reaches over to brush the back of his hand against Alfred's cheek. "Don't think like that." Ivan shakes his head, "We… _I_ really do care about you."

Alfred shrugs as Ivan pulls him into his arms. "It's just hard to believe sometimes. I know I'm really annoying."

"That's the risk that comes with trying so hard." The Russian holds him close and looks to him. "That doesn't mean your not worth all the effort we want to put towards you."

The American cuddles in closer and kisses Ivan's lips before settling into his scarf. He bites his lip thinking about the way the German looked at him in the cafe. About how he listened to all his woes patiently.

"Do you feel guilty?"

"I'm just worried about him. I don't want him to be alone like I was. He helped me when I needed it."

Ivan holds Alfred and tucks him under his chin. He bites his own lip and runs his fingers through his hair. "Me too… Maybe tomorrow we could give him a call."


End file.
